


Fleeting

by LuxKen27



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-10-25
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 114,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he ever wanted was a considerate roommate…but she turned out to be so much more. When they’re unwillingly thrown into a world of cutthroat business intrigue and family secrets, she quickly becomes the most important person in his life – if only he can find a way to truly trust her, body and soul.  AU; Serial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Come My Way

**Author's Note:**

> _Author’s Note_ : This serial was written (starting in 2008) using prompts from the LiveJournal community un_love_you (table [here](http://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/524327.html)). Further author’s notes (and other assorted goodies!) can be found in [the mega-meta resource thread](http://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/562773.html) on my DW.
> 
> Many thanks to those of you who have been with me since the beginning! =) I’d like to dedicate this story to psyco_chick32, who was a fervent supporter of this project, even though she wasn’t especially fond of this pairing. I wish I’d been able to finish it before she passed away, but alas :-/ She will truly be missed…
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The _Inuyasha_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1996-2008 Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan/Viz Media. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Prologue: “Come My Way”**

“You’re invited too, you know!” Kagome called through the open door.

The only response was an indeterminable grunt and the rustle of a newspaper.

She rolled her eyes. _Really, he’s so uptight sometimes!_ She pushed open the doors of her closet. It was short notice for a party invite, even by her incredibly easygoing standards. Still: it was Halloween, it was Friday night, and dammit, she needed the release! The stress from classes was about to suffocate her.

Living with one of the hottest guys on campus in a completely platonic situation _certainly_ didn’t help matters.

“Don’t you find this supposed ‘holiday’ quite childish?” Sesshoumaru asked, waxing poetic from his spot on the common room sofa. “You can’t tell me you honestly believe in spirits and demons.”

She gave a short laugh. “Haven’t you ever heard of just having fun?” she replied, digging underneath her bed. “You know: getting together with other people, gorging on candy and beer, dancing the night away?” Her hands landed on her desired shoes, and she tugged.

“Hmph.” She could practically see his condescending stare from here. He could be _so_ irritating sometimes…

Satisfied with her last-minute outfit, she gave one final glance into the mirror before stepping out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” she asked, moving through their shared space. “Guess I’ll have to ask Inuyasha or Kouga for a ride instead.”

His mouth fell open slightly as he took in her appearance: black halter top, black miniskirt, thigh high boots, all topped off with a fedora. His gaze seemed to linger on the exposed patch of skin between the end of her skirt and the top of her boots.

“What kind of party is this?” he choked out.

Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “A life-changing one.”


	2. Valor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #12 – “I’m drunk.”

**01\. Valor**

The last thing she remembered, she was enjoying the pleasant buzz in her head as she gyrated around the dance floor. The lights were a touch too bright, the music a shade too loud, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Besides, she had fabulous friends who were looking out for her, right?

Well…maybe not so much.

When she came to, she found herself perched against a cold shoulder. She was being carried somewhere, a set of arms wrapped around her as if she was a small child riding on her mother’s hip. _Ugh_ , she thought, swallowing hard. _I feel sick_. 

“Don’t even think about it,” a voice said crisply. “You puke on me and I’ll drop you like a stone.”

Kagome furrowed her brow, tilting her head against the shoulder and glancing up. The stoic profile of her roommate met her gaze, and she immediately flushed. _Sesshoumaru is carrying me? How embarrassing!_

People often wondered how they got along, much less lived together, considering their stark difference in personalities. She was as loud and extroverted as he was quiet and aloof. She was absent-minded and prone to indulgence, whereas he was incredibly uptight, letting the smallest details bother him. They couldn’t have been more different if they’d tried, so most people who knew of their living arrangement assumed it was because they had some sort of weird, sexual thing going.

 _I wish_ , Kagome thought, concentrating on keeping the bile in the back of her throat from rising. He was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen, with his unusual silvery hair and dark amber eyes. But the sad truth was, he’d simply wanted a quiet roommate who would pay half the rent and otherwise leave him alone, and she fit that bill – a rare considerate soul who’d lasted more than two weeks in his presence. She’d done everything she could think of over the last few months to draw him into a friendship, but most of her efforts were met with cool indifference.

“In you go,” he directed, breaking into her hazy, half-drunken contemplation. She landed gingerly on the backseat of his car, somehow managing to not hit her head on the door opposite. Something soft and warm fluttered over her, and she shifted to lie flat on her back.

“What?” she muttered, her voice in the gravel register as she peered up at him.

He leaned over her, his gaze searing straight through her. “I don’t trust you to hold your cookies if you’re sitting up, so just relax. We’ll be home soon enough.” He tucked her feet inside and shut the door, rounding the vehicle to slip in the driver’s seat.

They drove home in silence. Kagome stared at the roof of the car as she clutched the blanket over her chest, willing the mostly liquid contents of her stomach to stay put. She’d been so thrilled when her lure had worked and she’d managed to get him to come out with her, though it was a bit surprising that all it’d taken was a sexy outfit and the promise of excitement. Unfortunately, he’d turned into a rather boring date, not really speaking to her for most of the evening, and lurking in the shadows at the dance club.

Okay, so maybe their plans had changed a little. They had both been invited to a Halloween party at one of the student dorms on campus, but when they arrived, the group unanimously decided to go into the city instead. And…maybe she’d let her attention be monopolized by the more flirty social stylings of Inuyasha and Kouga, instead of trying to draw her roommate out of his shell. Those two could be pretty domineering when it came to conversation and decision-making, and it was so easy to be swept up by their whirlwind…

“What time is it?” she muttered. Sesshoumaru drove in the same manner in which he generally lived: in total silence.

“12:30,” he replied tonelessly.

Kagome slumped against the seat. So, not only had she done something that warranted intervention by this staid creature, but he was also toting her back home before the party had even _really_ gotten started.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the car eased to a stop. Kagome heard Sesshoumaru exit the vehicle, swinging his door closed with a firm shove, but he did not immediately retrieve her. She eased up, feeling lightheaded, and glanced out the window.

 _Of course_. He was unlocking the front door of their apartment, no doubt having already figured out that it would be harder to do if he had to keep her upright at the same time. She felt humiliated, suddenly wondering what she could’ve done to warrant such unusually delicate treatment.

He didn’t say anything as he returned, helping her get out of the car without getting tangled up in the blanket. She attempted to walk, but found herself falling over the impossible heels of her shoes. The crowning piece of this assembled outfit was now, literally, her downfall.

He caught her around the waist, patiently guiding her to their door and inside with little trouble. Once within, he paused to flip the lock before continuing on, leading her down the hallway to her bedroom door.

“I’m not a child, you know,” she groused, reaching for the key she’d slipped inside her bra.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he replied, still supporting her as she struggled to connect the key with the lock.

She glared at him as she turned the knob, stumbling inside. She felt around for the light switch as she fumbled for a suitable retort, only to realize that he hadn’t followed her inside. Scowling, she made her way over to the bed and sank into the mattress, reaching down to release her feet from the torturous boots. She sighed as she kicked them away. _You were my hook_ , she thought, gazing remorsefully at them.

Even in the haze of her half-drunken state, she could remember so clearly the expression on his face when she’d presented herself to him, decked out in her sexy best. He looked at her as if he was realizing for the first time that she was a woman, not just some entity that shared his accommodation. His eyes seemed to linger the longest on the patch of bare skin between the hem of her miniskirt and the tops of her thigh-high boots… She shivered at the memory. For some small moment of time, he _wanted_ her, and the promise of whatever lay ahead on this night.

“Here, drink this.” 

She hadn’t even heard him enter her room, but suddenly, he was there beside her, holding a glass at arm’s length. She imagined that she looked pretty pathetic as she sat there, staring up at him with tear-swollen eyes, her arms crossed over her abdomen as if to hold it in place.

Was that – _pity_ she spotted in his gaze? “What is it?” she asked skeptically.

“Water,” he replied. “You had a lot to drink tonight.”

She accepted the glass, cupping it in her palms and taking a small sip. “What happened to me?” she asked softly. 

He gazed impassively at her. “You passed out because you had too much to drink,” he told her, neither his expression nor his tone belying judgment. “Inuyasha and Kouga were tag-teaming you, and I guess you didn’t notice.” He shrugged. “You have a higher tolerance than I thought, though. I’m impressed.”

She put the glass down on her cluttered bedside table. “They probably think I’m a total loser,” she moaned, covering her face with her hands.

He didn’t answer her directly. “Go to bed,” he instructed instead, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” she cried out, glaring up at him with all the righteous indignation she could muster. Goddamn it, it was _his_ fault she felt so shitty! Drunk and frustrated – not how she wanted this night to end _at all_.

“Stop making me regret the decision to peel you off the floor,” he returned archly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“How humiliating,” she snorted, grabbing the corner of the bedcovers and ripping them back. “No wonder everybody thinks you’re a prick, treating me like that!”

He was in her face faster than she could blink. “Let’s just get one thing straight,” he murmured, his fingers curling into the soft space between her neck and shoulder, his nails digging into her skin. “I did it because I care about you, and I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

She didn’t put forth any resistance as he eased her down on the mattress, looming over her for a moment like some vengeful deity. “God help me, but I care,” he sighed. “Those two idiots were taking advantage of you, and maybe they would’ve succeeded if I hadn’t been there.”

“Sesshoumaru,” she whispered, her mind filling with wonder as she looked up at him. The knot of need she’d been carrying for most of the evening tightened in her core, and she fought with all her might against the nausea that also threatened. As his grip on her loosened, she surged forward, twisting her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she breathed, her eyes falling closed as she leaned into him.

Was her desire written all over her face? She didn’t much care. He exhaled sharply, his breath warm against her lips. All he had to do was shift down a little, just the _tiniest bit_ …

“No,” he said, softly but firmly, reaching over his shoulders to unhook her arms. “Not like this.”

She fell back with a disappointed gasp, her head hitting the pillows at the same moment that he flipped the covers over the rest of her body. She opened her mouth to call out to him again, but he was already gone, on silent feet, pulling the door closed behind him.

She sighed, turning onto her side and curling into a ball. She had been _so close_ …

_“Not like this.”_

But his words gave her hope.


	3. Longing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #09 – “Always wondered what this’d be like.”

**02\. Longing**

Kagome sighed as she stared at the phone. _Boys suck_ , she silently groused.

Not that she felt anything less than pathetic at that moment anyway. Here it was, Friday night, and she was sitting by the phone, waiting for a guy to call her up and ask her out. Admittedly, it wasn’t just _any_ guy: Kouga was something of a manwhore, but his smile was powerful enough to make her melt into a puddle of doe-eyed twelve-year-old all over again. 

_I need to give up on the flakes_ , she told herself as the phone continued to defy her. _They are not worth the frustration_. Sure, Kouga wasn’t the great love of her life, but he was all the action she’d seen in the last six weeks. Following her humiliating exit from the Halloween party, she’d become something of an outcast among her social set. The desperate end-of-the-semester crunch had softened the blow, but now that classes were over and most of her fellow students were heading home for winter break, her loneliness had resurfaced.

Losing a huge chunk of her social network wasn’t the only humiliating outcome of that horrible Halloween night – she’d also managed to botch any chance she had with her hot-as-fuck but arrogant-as-hell roommate. Her memories of that night were mostly hazy…except, of course, her failed seduction attempt, which stood out in crystal clear, stark relief. He hadn’t rejected her outright, but perhaps what he _had_ done – given her a flicker of hope – was even crueler. 

They hadn’t spoken of that evening since, but things hadn’t been the same between them. Lost to her in the mad dash to finish the semester was how he managed to build yet another barrier around himself, but one day, she looked up and there it was.

There was no stopping her crush, though: it grew and grew and grew, in spite of not having any rational nourishment.

Yes, she had a lot of reasons to feel pathetic right now.

The slam of the apartment’s front door startled her from her brooding. She glanced up over the back of sofa in the common room to see Sesshoumaru, as if she’d summoned him by the power of her thoughts. Covertly, she watched as he stripped out of his winter gear, hanging his coat and hat and gloves on the hooks in the foyer.

He picked up his bag and headed towards the hallway that led to their bedrooms, stopping short when he realized he was not alone. “You’re still here?” he blurted out, rather incredulously.

She furrowed her brow as she regarded him. “I live here too, you know,” she replied, curling up under her favorite blue blanket.

He graced her with a rare smile. “That’s not what I meant,” he demurred. “I’m just surprised you’re here, instead of out with your…friends.”

She cast another wry look at the phone. “It’s hard to go out and have fun when nobody wants you.”

He didn’t respond to that, but his smile withered away. After a long moment, he spoke again. “Are you going home for the break?”

“No,” she sighed. “My family is taking yet another ski vacation, but I opted out. You?”

“I can’t afford to,” he said with a shrug. “My thesis is kicking my ass, and my advisor wants to see the next chapter in two weeks.” He rubbed his eyes. “I haven’t even started the research for it yet.”

Kagome’s wounded pride softened as she gazed at him, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. At least her work was over for the duration; she dreaded the very idea of a graduate program if it meant working overtime like he’d been. He’d put in long nights for the last three weeks just to finish preparing the last chapter of his master’s thesis, and if his body language was anything to go by, it hadn’t gone over very well with his advisor. 

“Well, I’m going to bed,” he announced, tightening the grip on the strap of his shoulder bag and turning on his heel.

“Wait!” she cried, jumping up from her perch. 

He glanced back at her questioningly, but she felt her words stick to the back of her throat. 

“Do you at least have time for a cup of tea?” she finally managed to choke out.

Her heart began to pick up speed as he contemplated her offer. Finally – after what seemed like an eternity – his shoulders softened. “Sure,” he agreed, albeit tiredly.

“Great!” she chirped, moving round to guide him over to the sofa. He laughed softly as she pushed him to sit down, and then draped her blanket over him. “You just sit here and relax, and I’ll be right back.”

“All right,” he replied dutifully, pulling the strap of his bag over his head and setting it down on the floor beside his feet. 

Kagome smiled to herself as she walked into their small kitchen. Tea was her weakness: she drank it no matter what the weather, enjoying everything from basic black tea to more exotic herbal infusions. She was a purist, buying loose tea whenever possible – but she could also be lazy, and indulged in tea bags for convenience. As such, her tea collection was rather vast, taking up an entire cabinet on her side of the kitchen. She pulled open the cabinet door and pored over its contents for something appropriate. Considering the weather, the season, and the reason, she finally settled on peppermint. It was not only festive, but also reputed for its relaxing qualities.

Ten minutes later she reappeared in the common room, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of fruit bars. Sesshoumaru’s head was turned away from her as she walked into the room, so she eased the tray onto the small table in front of him. 

“It’s ready,” she announced, picking up one of the mugs and turning to hand it to him.

That’s when she realized that he was fast asleep, his head resting on the back of the sofa, his chest rising and falling softly beneath her blanket.

Kagome smiled and sat next to him, curling her legs under herself. She didn’t have to heart to wake him up, considering how exhausted he’d been lately. Even now, under the guise of sleep, he looked worn out. For a moment, she wondered just how deep into the night he’d been working of late.

She sipped the tea, relishing the heat that flooded through her, not only from her beverage, but also from being so close to this man she’d lusted after for so long. She’d never had the opportunity to study him so intimately as she did now, at least not while sober. He was absolutely beautiful, somehow managing to pull off the combination of pale skin and silvery hair without looking inherently sickly. His features, so sharp and angular when awake, were somewhat softer in repose. The line of his brow, the turn of his nose, the shape of his mouth belied a fine-boned delicacy reserved only for the leisurely aristocratic.

She carefully replaced her now-empty cup on the tray. She knew she should take these things back to the kitchen and put them away, just like she knew she should wake him up and pack him off to bed, but she didn’t. She wanted to stay exactly where she was, studying him, nursing her hopeless crush.

She sank into the overstuffed sofa beside him, laying her head on the cushion next to his. The long locks of his hair spilled over his eyes, covering his cheek, shining softly in the overhead light. She bit her lip as she stared, trying to decide if touching him would wake him up. From what she could discern in the few short months she’d lived with him, he was a heavy sleeper. Or at least, he’d never shown any signs of being disturbed when she came home late – or with someone else.

 _You really_ are _pathetic_ , she admonished herself, feeling guilty at the thought of touching him – even innocently – while he was asleep. He’d never given her any indication that he considered her anything more than a roommate, perhaps a grudging friend, at best. Must she really stoop so low, to indulge in her crush while he was unawares?

At the same time, the risk of rousing him sent a thrill down her spine. What would he do if he woke up and found her hands on him?

 _Only one way to find out_ , she mused, suddenly emboldened by the notion.

Even so, the first sweep of her hand was short, tentative. When he didn’t stir, she brushed her fingers through his hair, reveling in its silkiness. Soon enough she was combing through his lengthy locks, her hand starting at his temple and moving all the way over his shoulder. Her gentle strokes brought her body closer to his, drawing her inner warmth outward, cloaking her.

His head slipped down, moving closer to hers on the cushion. She glanced up into his face, her roving hand hovering just above his ear, and watched closely for any signs of him stirring awake.

The pattern of his breathing never broke. 

She lowered her gaze, looking at her blanket covering him, and had a sudden, overwhelming urge to lift it up and burrow into him, fitting her body into the cradle of his. Even though most of her fantasies involved doing far less innocent things to him between a set of sheets, some little part of her had always wondered what it would be like to cuddle with him, to be held softly, gently, securely, in silent reassurance of his love. 

Her mother always said that cuddling could make anything and everything instantly better, from wounded knees to broken hearts.

 _I suppose he hasn’t broken my heart yet_ , she mused to herself, her eyes rising again to his face. She lifted her hand from his hair and touched him directly, his skin surprisingly smooth under her fingers. She traced the delicate arch of his brow, the straight line of his nose, the gentle swell of his cheek. 

She was overcome by something swift and painful just then, some unknown sensation underpinned by longing and desire. As her fingers found the contours of his mouth, she felt her own breath shuttering in her lungs. She wanted him, yes – she’d known that for months now. Only now was she realizing that what she wanted from him was not just _pleasure_ , but _comfort_ as well. 

She felt giddy and stupid and pathetic and lonely all at once – so close, and yet so far from where she truly wanted to be with him. She knew he thought of her as reckless and irresponsible, maybe a bit shallow and self-absorbed, like the people she socialized with. But she also knew he found her attractive, or at least he had, once upon a time. Along with the lingering humiliation of Halloween night, she remembered the look in his eyes when she’d invited him out, as well as when she’d attempted to kiss him, sloppy seduction or no.

And if she kissed him now…? 

_Maybe I am pathetic_ , she thought as she eyed him, a myriad of emotions tumbling through her head and her heart. _Even though he’s asleep…and he’ll never know…_

_…I still want to._

She took a deep breath and, before she could talk herself out of it, leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his, bracing her hand on the nape of his neck. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins, her heart fluttering against her ribs, her stomach turning over on itself as the rest of her body tensed in anticipation. 

She felt tears prickling behind her eyes when the gentle pressure of her lips to his was unreturned.

She let him go, a small, wry smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she pulled away. It was satisfying and heartbreaking all at once; even an unacknowledged kiss had eased away some of the uneasy longing that filled her – just as she knew it would.

She took another deep breath and released it slowly, opening her eyes to look at him once more. He was beautiful – boyish – exhausted – and, unfortunately, currently beyond her reach. 

But, hopefully, not forever.

Reluctantly, she stood up and turned to face him. He’d be irritated if he didn’t have a decent night’s sleep, that much she _did_ know from past experience. “Come on, Sesshoumaru, wake up,” she cajoled, leaning over him and shaking his shoulder. 

When he didn’t stir, she smirked. _Don’t tempt me_ , she thought recklessly, finding the idea of falling into his lap and using other methods of arousal all too appealing. She checked that urge, however, allowing herself to press a light kiss to his temple instead, murmuring her plea in his ear.

He awoke with a sigh and a groan. “Mmm, peppermint,” he mused, inclining his head towards her as she retreated from the intimate stance. His eyes fluttered open, still bleary with sleep.

“Time for bed, mister,” she teased, picking up the tray.

He gave her a long, assessing stare before answering her smile with his own. “Yes,” he echoed tiredly, “bed.” He swept her blanket aside, wearily picking himself up and reaching for his bag. 

He started off down the hall, but turned back after only a few steps, sending her a thoughtful look.

“Just a word of caution, Kagome,” he murmured, his voice soft and low, almost ominous to her ears. “Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”

He left her with those words, turning back down the hall on ever-silent feet, disappearing into his room.

She could only stare after him, her knuckles white as she clutched the tray, and wonder…


	4. Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #08 – “I’m cruel.”

**03\. Protection**

He was at the end of his rope, and he was running out of time.

This chapter was due in six hours. 

He was 2500 words short. 

No matter what he tried, he just could not find a way to stretch the material to meet the suggested word count.

 _This is ridiculous_ , he groused, pushing himself away from his desk and the mocking glow of his computer screen. His chair bumped against the side of his bed, and he slumped forward, pushing his hands through his hair. _Nothing short of quoting the entire conclusion of that last reference will do it._

His nails raked against his scalp as he banished the idea from his mind. His advisor was riding him pretty hard, but not nearly as hard as he was treating himself. He was on a deadline, dammit. If he didn’t graduate by May, everything would be absolutely ruined.

Nobody understood the sheer amount of stress he was under, self-induced or not. It seemed like no matter what he did, he never quite measured up to his father’s lofty standards. Graduating first in his class in high school with full marks? Not good enough. Earning entrance into the toughest undergraduate program at the top university in the city? Not good enough. A bachelor’s degree in three years, conferred with highest honors?

Not. Good. Enough.

It had been that way his entire life. Even when he was five years old and had brought home his first academic prize, his father’s reaction had been the same: a narrow, assessing glare that edged down the slope of his nose – a single look that had the power to cut straight through its target. 

Perhaps that’s when he had committed his gravest mistake: taking his father’s reaction as a challenge. His five-year-old heart was determined to bring something other than thinly-veined disappointment to grace his father’s features, and thus had set in motion an endless, vicious cycle of events. 

It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, however, he could never erase that end result.

When he turned seventeen, it had all come to a head. His father had called him into his office the day before high school graduation. He’d been largely absent the prior few months, as he worked round the clock to secure yet another takeover of a holdings company. With that merger, his corporation became one of the most formidable in the country, controlling stakes in everything from hospitals to road works.

Sesshoumaru remembered the moment well: standing in front of his father’s desk, holding his head as high as he dared as he stared back at the man he so desperately wanted to impress. His father had calmly returned the gaze, ever calculating, before throwing down the gauntlet:

_“If you wish to succeed me, you must prove you are worthy of being the heir to my power.”_

That ultimatum had brought Sesshoumaru’s entire world into focus. It had taken twelve years, but finally, he understood: just because he had been born into privilege didn’t mean that he was going to have his inheritance handed to him. It became crystal clear that his father was going to do absolutely nothing to help him. That realization – proving to his father that he had the brains _and_ the balls to do whatever it took to succeed him – became his obsession.

These days, he was no longer surprised at his father’s distinct lack of enthusiasm about his achievements, academic or otherwise. But that look never disappeared, and it still made Sesshoumaru’s blood boil. It was a tacit threat, the only thing that could make him feel vulnerable and frustrated and helpless in an instant.

It was the last straw.

He _had_ to graduate from this program in the spring. There was an opening at one of his family’s rival companies, a strategic internship placement that carried with it the possibility of permanent employment. The position? 

Merger negotiation.

To hell with never measuring up to his father’s impossible standards. If he was going to be blocked from inheriting what was rightfully his, he’d simply take it by force.

The slam of the apartment’s front door startled him in his brooding. He growled and cast a deathly glare at his bedroom door as the silence was broken around him. Judging by the general commotion wafting down the hallway and through the common room, it seemed his roommate had returned from wherever it was she’d gone that morning.

Oh, he liked her well enough – she was generally quiet and considerate, never bothering him unless he was in one of their shared spaces. He was somewhat amused by her breezy, seemingly uncomplicated lifestyle; she lived her life in a veritable social whirlwind, the complete opposite of his staid existence.

But their dynamic had taken a turn for the uneasy in the past few months. As such, he’d been surprised – and disappointed – when he’d learned that she was staying on campus over the winter break from classes. Unused to living with someone else for such an extended period of time – no one had lasted as long as she had – he’d so been looking forward to a stretch of time alone to focus on his work.

The _last_ thing he needed right now was a distraction.

~*~

“Kouga, keep it down, please,” Kagome pleaded, watching him flit around her kitchen with her good eye. A knot of dread was already beginning to form in her stomach. _This was not a good idea_ , she reminded herself. _Sesshoumaru can’t stand him!_

Kouga continued to bang around, oblivious. “What are you talking about?” he asked her cheerfully, filling her tea kettle with water and setting it on the stove. “I’m only making a pot of tea!”

She winced as the door to her tea cabinet slammed shut, cringing further at the sharp pain that streaked across her face. Gingerly, she touched her red, sore cheek. She’d been on her way home from the bus stop when the skies had opened and rained hail and sleet down upon her. It had come seemingly out of nowhere, and she’d been completely unprepared for it. Luckily – or perhaps _un_ luckily – Kouga had been on the same bus, and had draped his overcoat around her, offering to walk her home.

In her moment of desperation, she’d rescinded her vow of giving up on the flaky men in her life and agreed, only to remember – too late – that Sesshoumaru was at their apartment, hard at work on his thesis. He would not welcome an extra set of feet stomping around the place, even on his best day – which had not been recently. He’d been snippy with her all week, hence her need to get out of the apartment in spite of the dreary weather.

“Listen, Kouga, I appreciate this,” she tried again, resting her head in her hand, “but it’s really not necessary. Besides, Sesshoumaru’s here – ”

Kouga laughed out loud. “Of course he is, that pathetic little prick,” he interrupted, giving her a self-satisfied smirk as he leaned against the counter near the stove and crossed his arms over his chest. “That guy doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘fun’. Always got his nose in a book, eternally planning little strategies to take over his daddy’s companies.” He shook his head in mocking pity.

“He’s not _that_ bad,” she protested, the reasons why she didn’t thrill over being in Kouga’s company for a long stretch of time coming back to her, and fast.

“If you say so…” Kouga’s words trailed off as he eyed her. “Look, do you two have something going or what? I can’t why imagine a perfectly sane, perfectly luscious girl such as yourself would live with that jerk _voluntarily_.”

Kagome flushed in response. How was she supposed to answer that? Things had certainly changed between them since that fateful Halloween night, albeit not for the best. As she struggled to find her voice, Kouga leaned over and shut off the heat under the whistling kettle.

“Besides,” he continued, placing it on the tray and bringing it to the table where she sat, “I think I deserve to know if I’m sharing my woman.”

“Your _woman_?!” she sputtered. “Since when?”

He ignored her question, looping his arm over the back of her chair as he swayed close, invading her personal space with an uninviting leer. “Please, Kagome, know that if you’re in some sort of trouble with him, you can _always_ come to me.”

“Ahem.”

Kagome breathed a silent sigh of relief at the interruption, quickly moving away from the uninvited embrace. She glanced up over Kouga’s shoulder, her eyes growing wide as she took in her roommate’s stony expression. Suddenly, the knot in her stomach doubled over on itself.

“If you’re quite finished castigating me and my roommate, kindly remove yourself from my property,” Sesshoumaru said calmly, coldly. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, openly glowering at the pair of them from across the room.

Koga straightened, latching onto Sesshoumaru’s scowl with a matching glare of his own. “‘Castigating’? Dude, what are you, from the Feudal Era or something?” he scoffed. “Please. Besides, I’m here because Kagome invited me. I was _protecting_ her – ”

“The only thing she needs protection from is you,” Sesshoumaru cut in, closing the space between them with long, languid strides.

“I’ll leave when _Kagome_ tells me to,” Kouga replied, his lips curling into a sneer as his rival approached.

“Is that so?” Sesshoumaru returned, before Kagome could even open her mouth. “Last time I looked, this was _my_ property, so what _I_ say goes.”

“Is _she_ your property, too?” Kouga asked sarcastically, jutting a finger in Kagome’s direction.

Sesshoumaru gave him a small, hard smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “How is our relationship any business of yours?” he inquired curtly.

Kouga’s eyes bugged out of his head. “So it _is_ true,” he muttered, casting a suspicious glare at the girl whose honor he had just been defending.

For her part, Kagome was completely stunned by this turn of events; she didn’t think it was possible to feel any worse than she had a scant few minutes before, out in the hailstorm. Again, she struggled for words. “Kouga, I – ”

“I mean, holy shit, I knew you were easy, but _this_?” Kouga cut in, incredulous. “Wow, this is pretty pathetic, even for the likes of _you_.”

“ _Easy_?!” she shot back, bolting upright, knocking the chair over in her unsteady, half-numb state.

Before he could respond, Kouga found himself pinned against the refrigerator, Sesshoumaru’s hand solid and firm and crushing against his throat. His face turned seven shades of red and purple as Sesshoumaru tightened his grip, lifting him off his feet.

“Are you ready to put that particular theory to the test?” Sesshoumaru mused, his tone as cold and hard as his hold. He curled his fingers inward, his nails digging into Kouga’s flesh. 

Kouga battled for air, swatting uselessly at the iron wrist that held him.

Kagome didn’t have the words to express the anger and humiliation she felt in that moment, knowing now what he truly thought of her – why he was still hanging around her, even after the rest of his friends had shunned her. She grabbed his overcoat and heaved it across the room. “Get out!” she cried, tears burning behind her eyes.

Sesshoumaru suddenly loosened his grip, taking a step back, and Kouga slumped into an unceremonious heap on their kitchen floor. “You heard the woman,” he mused darkly, spearing his fallen opponent with a sharp look.

Kouga glared up at the two of them. “You two _deserve_ each other,” he wheezed, his breath hard and heavy in his chest as he struggled to regain his air. “You’re both fucking _insane_!” He heaved himself up, reaching for his coat, and began to half-walk, half-crawl from the room. 

Sesshoumaru was fast on his heels, suppressing the urge to shove Kouga out the front door; as it was, he gave the door a not-so-satisfying slam after he was finally gone.

“Thank you,” came a quiet, hesitant voice from behind him.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, flipping the lock on the door before turning to face his erstwhile roommate.

“This is all your fault, you know,” he declared, unable to hold his irritation in check any longer.

Kagome’s brow furrowed as she peered at him, clutching the cup of tea she held in front of her, as if to shield herself from his growing annoyance. “I…don’t understand,” she finally replied.

“Of course you don’t,” he shot back, heaving an exasperated sigh. “How could you? The most pressing project in your life, at present, is trying to choose between two pairs of shoes on any given day.”

He pushed past her, but she caught the sleeve of his shirt, bringing him up short. “Sesshoumaru, wait!” she pleaded. “I’m sorry, I can explain – ”

His patience completely bottomed out. “ _You knew_ ,” he cut in, pivoting on his heel to face her as he broke away from her grip. “ _You knew_ that I was extremely busy, on a very tight schedule with this chapter of my thesis.” He glared at her. “So what do you do? You bring over quite possibly the biggest asshole on the planet to stomp around in our kitchen and be his general annoying self.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Very mature, Kagome.”

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him, her hands tightening around the cup. “ _Mature_?” she fired back hotly. “And what about that little display back there, getting in his face? Oh, yeah, that’s how _real men_ settle their differences – with violence!”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond, not willing to give her the satisfaction.

She swallowed convulsively under the intensity of his scrutiny, the color receding from her face as they stood there, in awkward silence. Finally, she looked away from him. “Did you mean what you said back there?” she asked softly. “About us – our ‘relationship’?”

His eyes hooded. “My business is my business,” he intoned bluntly.

She licked her lips. “And am I your business?”

Right now, all she was to him was a fucking _distraction_. He turned, his arms falling back to his sides as he contemplated a response to her query. “You’re a sweet kid, Kagome,” he finally replied, “but frivolous, irresponsible party girl isn’t exactly my type.”

She exhaled sharply, the sound of it stabbing him in the stomach. It wasn’t exactly the truth – she wasn’t his type, no, but she _was_ incredibly attractive, and she could be intriguing, and she was a decent roommate most of the time. Another time, another place – ? Who knows what could’ve happened between them.

But not now. He didn’t have the time, interest, or inclination to start a romantic relationship with anyone, much less her. His thesis – the key to his future – was at the forefront of his mind, too urgent and too pressing to demand anything less than his full attention.

“Like I said before,” he murmured, setting off down the hall towards his bedroom, “don’t start something you aren’t prepared to finish.” _You’re not ready to tangle with me_ , he added silently. _You’re not ready to deal with my shit, and I’m not ready to subject you to it._


	5. Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #27 – _(Author’s Choice)_ – “I miss you.”

**04\. Regret**

She ran.

It was no surprise, really; for all his talent with diplomacy, he might as well be a block of wood. It was part of the reason he’d undertaken taken this degree program in the first place: one couldn’t be a successful merger negotiator if one didn’t have an excellent set of cross- (double-) talking skills at one’s disposal.

Admittedly, he could’ve couched his words better, though – there really hadn’t been need to add insult to injury. He’d just let his irritation get the best of him that afternoon, that’s all. Her heartbroken gasp of shock was all the punishment he needed to concede that maybe it had been a bit of a jerky thing to say. Jerky or not, though, it had gotten him what he wanted: some peace and quiet to finish his damn thesis chapter.

He didn’t realize the full consequences of his words until the next day. 

He’d spent most of the day in his advisor’s office, sweating over the solution he’d managed to haphazard together at the last minute. Somehow, being unhappy with the chapter himself made the criticism that flowed from this so-called expert of the field easier to handle. And boy, was there a raging river of it this time – though, he grudgingly admitted, most of it well deserved.

However, he was in luck: Christmas was approaching, and the rest of the world was slowly grinding to a halt for the holiday. For him, that meant extra time to get this portion of his paper in shape before tackling the next bit, due when classes resumed in January. He’d gone immediately home, full of determination and resolve to get a head start.

How long he worked, he wasn’t sure, but gradually, he became aware that there was no other movement around the apartment. Kagome had left early that morning, before he was even out of bed, and he figured she’d probably be gone most of the day. The previous afternoon’s events had left things quite strained between them, even to his generally oblivious standards. 

So, he put the thought out of his mind, making himself a quick dinner before resuming his revisions. It was only after midnight had come and gone, and he was readying himself to turn in, that he realized – 

She was gone.

He didn’t know what to think. After all, wasn’t this what he wanted – total peace and quiet, time to himself, away from the hassle of dealing with others? Time to devote to his thesis, his master plan, his future? Wasn’t that the most important thing right now?

He was washing his dishes when it hit him – or, more to the point, when he hit his head against the door of her tea cabinet. He glanced up sharply, but found his gaze softening as it lingered. Somehow, knowing that her things were still there brought forth some measure of comfort. _She isn’t gone for good_ , he thought wistfully.

He shook himself, turning his attention back to his dishes. “Of course she isn’t,” he mused aloud. “I’d know if she’d left forever. She wasn’t exactly _quiet_ when she moved in, at least.” A tiny smile played at the corners of his lips as he finished, turning off the taps and drying his hands on a towel. The wisp of memory floated at the periphery of his mind: she had been quite clumsy, bringing loads more things than he’d expected, especially considering she had been in student housing before signing the contract to rent out his spare room. But she had been quite good-humored about the whole thing, apologizing profusely for disturbing him and swearing it would never happen again.

And, for the most part, she’d lived up to that promise.

Then Halloween had happened, a party that lived up to its ‘life-changing’ billing in quite a few respects.

It was funny; until then, he’d thought of her as little more than an amusing but considerate roommate, someone who managed to share his living quarters exactly as he wished: with minimal fuss or muss. They hadn’t spent a great deal of time together, but managed to find a comfortable space to share the common room on occasion – she, usually watching some stupid TV show, while he relaxed with the newspaper.

Since that fateful night, however, things had certainly changed. Their shared silence was no longer comfortable or mutual. He knew she’d suffered some sort of social fallout after that disastrous party, but he’d be damned if he was going to let anybody take advantage of her _right in front of him_. He didn’t regret sweeping her away from Inuyasha and Kouga before they could take advantage of her drunkenness. He also didn’t regret deferring her advances on him later that evening, as he’d had no intention of taking advantage of the situation, either – he generally preferred to have sex with willing, conscious partners, not ones who’d just blacked out from their drinking escapades.

He sighed, reaching up to close the door of her tea cabinet. Somehow, it just wasn’t the same without her milling about, awkward strain or no. He stood there for several moments, fingers latched around the knob, contemplating, analyzing.

 _I miss her_ , he realized, staring at the door of the now-closed cabinet. Even the reassurance that she would eventually come back was not enough to ease the dull ache that had started to spread throughout his chest. The realization stunned him: how was it that he, who had consciously been a loner for the grand majority of his life, could actually miss someone? Especially someone who had spent the last few weeks being irritatingly attractive and distracting, in the moments when he could least afford to pursue either avenue?

And yet, strange as it seemed, he realized that was exactly what was happening. 

He opened the cabinet, examining her collection of teas. Boxes of tea bags were stored haphazardly on the top shelf, while tins of loose leaves cluttered the bottom. It was a veritable cornucopia of choice, all major types represented – from their native green tea, to English breakfast tea, to Chinese oolong, to flavored teas from Europe. Exotic herbal infusions were also tucked away in their own corner.

Before he realized it, he was holding an almost-empty box, a familiar fragrance drifting up to his nose. _Peppermint_. He rifled through the bags, jarring the leaves further, strengthening the sweet scent. It enveloped him, and for a moment, he felt undeniably _happy_ – and strangely melancholic, all at once.

Silently, he moved to the stove, setting her kettle ablaze. He prepared his cup as the water heated. He hadn’t made tea for himself in a very long time, but the routine felt as oddly comforting as it did rusty.

He sat at the table a few moments later, staring into the middle distance as the tea steeped. _I wonder where she went_ , he mused to himself. _I wonder when she’s coming back._

He sipped the hot liquid slowly, savoring the minty coolness that coated his tongue. Somehow, drinking her tea was alleviating the sting of her absence. It was hard for him to pinpoint exactly why it bothered him so much that she was gone, and so suddenly. Was it because she’d reacted as any normal person would have to his callous words? Was it because he’d expected her to stand up to him instead?

Or was it because she’d left without telling him?

As if he had a right to know. He didn’t _own_ her. He wasn’t really even friends with her.

He just…lived with her.

And now, as he sat there in the dark, he realized just how alone he was without her.

~*~

She ran.

In retrospect, fleeing had probably been a stupid move, but she felt like she had no other choice, given the circumstances. Her emotions were running high after their fight, and her rush of goodwill towards him had so been thoroughly crushed by his rejection. Her poor heart (or was that her pride?) couldn’t take any more, so she ran.

Kagome sighed as she stared into her cup. The only place she could go was to her family’s home; since they were preparing for their annual ski trip, she had no choice but to accompany them. Her mother refused to let her sit home alone for Christmas, no matter how much she desired the time and space to deal with her dejection in peace.

So here she was, at one of the swankiest seen-and-be-seen ski resorts in the country, situated on one of the northern islands of Japan. One of the reasons she was reluctant to return was because she was tired of this scene, with its abundance of posturing jerks and snottily vain divas. Reputation was paramount, as were family and societal connections: the power of a family’s name determined their prestige, their place in the hierarchy.

The Higurashi name was, as of yet, unsullied, in spite of her mother’s hasty remarriage and her grandfather’s declining health.

 _Needs more alcohol_ , she mused, watching the chocolate swirl around in her mug. They didn’t serve tea at this resort – only coffee and hot chocolate, luxurious winter beverages. After a hard day on the slopes, skiers apparently only wanted something either sickeningly sweet or terrifyingly bitter to quench their thirst. Tea was the common man’s drink, and her obsession with it was her own little rebellion.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

Her mother’s voice broke through Kagome’s muted reverie. She glanced up to see her parents and little brother standing before her, decked out in the latest and greatest ski gear. This being an annual family outing, they were all excellent at the sport, enjoying the challenge of the black diamond trails.

“I’m sure,” she replied, giving them a weak smile. She sucked at anything that required more coordination than moving her body to the beat of a song.

Her mother placed a puffy, ski-gloved hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you decided to join us after all, but I hate seeing you just sitting around all the time,” she said gently. “You will tell us if something’s bothering you and ruining your fun, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mama,” Kagome replied, patting her mother’s hand. _Meaning, of course, that I won’t._

“Good,” her mother murmured, straightening once more. She sent the rest of their family ahead of her, giving a cursory glance around the room. “If you’re going to stay in the lodge all day, why don’t you make good use of your time?” she suggested. “There are plenty of young men from the most eligible families hanging around…”

Kagome gave her mother a tight smile. “Sure,” she agreed, swirling the mug in her hands again. _I’d rather die than go out with any of these losers_ , she vowed silently, her smile frozen in place as she waved goodbye to her mother, who was finally leaving to conquer the slopes herself.

It was pathetic, really; she’d run away from campus to escape from her frustration, to leave her roommate and her hurt feelings in the dust. So why was it, now that she was halfway across the country, that all she could think about was _him_? 

It had been almost a week since their last conversation, but the sting of his words still resonated in her mind. _“You’re a sweet kid, but not my type”_ – God, was there any worse way to be rejected, than to be told so _plainly_? And on top of the humiliation she’d suffered from Kouga’s outburst, no less! Geez, he really knew how to pick his moments, didn’t he?

And yet…

…there was some small piece of her that was unwilling to give up on him just yet. _He likes you_ , that little voice whispered to her in the back of her mind. _Actions speak louder than words. What about Halloween – that look was no lie! And he let you kiss him – that has to mean something!_

She still wasn’t sure what to make of that one-sided kiss that night on the sofa. He’d never actually acknowledged it, so still she wondered: was he even aware that it had happened? He had been _asleep_ , after all. It would make his warnings to leave him alone seem less cryptic – not to mention, her own actions less pathetic – if he didn’t know what she’d done. But he struck her as the type of person who was always keenly aware of what was going on around him, whether he chose to formally acknowledge it or not.

 _What can I do to prove to him I’m more than just an insipid little girl?_ she wondered morosely, again tipping her mug and watching the grainy mixture ebb and flow. 

Maybe there was no use in fighting it: crushes _always_ won out, in the absence of solid evidence.

“Oh, God,” she mumbled, covering her face with her hands. _I’ve truly done it this time – reached new depths of pathetic ridiculousness! I can’t_ believe _I actually think I have a chance with him! And yet…I can’t stop wanting him, no matter how hard I try!_ She could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping unabated up the back of her neck, even as she sat there in a room full of nominal acquaintances.

“Well, this _is_ a surprise,” mused a wry voice, piercing through her emotional rumination. 

Kagome froze, absolutely mortified that someone was observing her tiny display of personal meltdown. Slowly, she eased upright once more, glancing cautiously over her shoulder. Her eyes widened and her heart stopped as she took in the full presence of the man standing there.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, unable to hide the sheer shock that scored her spine. “What are _you_ doing here?!”


	6. Reminiscent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #25 – “You remind me of someone.”

**05\. Reminiscent**

“Hmph.” Sesshoumaru glanced up from his books, a look of distinct displeasure marring his otherwise perfect features. The insistent ring of the warning bell buzzed in his ears, signaling that the library was about to close.

His concentration broken, he sat back in his seat and stared at the piles of books that surrounded him. He was multitasking, working to revise the progress he’d already made on his thesis, as well as researching ahead for the next chapter. He’d been _in the zone_ , moving from reference shelf to reference shelf, and, judging by the piles on the table, somewhere along the line it had all gotten just a bit out of hand…

The sounds of his fellow patrons rustling about rose to his ears, and he looked around the room, watching them slowly stretch, gather their belongings, and shuffle away. For a moment, he wondered if it would truly be so bad to be locked in the library over the holiday break; after all, there were plenty of bathrooms scattered among the five levels, as well as vending machines in the lobby. Plus he’d have access to precious books that were on the closed shelves.

_Hmm…_

The bell rang again, and the lights began to flicker and shut down systematically, starting on the top floor and working their way down. These little signals made the others move a bit faster, shoving their books back on the shelves and heading for the staircases with great haste. As the lights began to fade in his reading room, Sesshoumaru very reluctantly stood up and began to repack his bag. He paused as he threw the strap over his head, eyeing the reference books still splayed across the table.

 _If they’re going to kick me out just because it’s Christmas, they can put their own books back in order_ , he thought with a sniff, moving towards the exit with steady, languid strides.

He ignored the well-wishes of the library staff as he left, focusing instead on keeping his irritation in check. Why the entire world had to stop just because someone declared one bitterly cold day more important than all the others, he’d never understand. He didn’t celebrate Christmas anyway, so he’d just as soon get on with his life.

He paused as he stepped out of the lobby, pulling his soft wool cap down so that it covered the tips of his ears. It was snowing, albeit lightly, the flurries carried by on a passing breeze and swirling between the buildings. The crowds around him seemed to hunker down against the gentle assault, scurrying like ants between their vehicles and their destinations, or huddling together under the weather guards at the bus stops.

Sesshoumaru tugged at his coat, swiftly tying the belt at his waist, and set off on foot.

Snow was another thing that brought the city to its knees, so he hadn’t even bothered to attempt driving in it. The university library was rather far from his apartment, but easily connected via both bus and metro. Right now, though, he felt like a good walk – maybe it would work off some of this frustration.

Plus, he was not exactly in a hurry to get home.

It was maddening; after wanting nothing but peace and quiet for the last few weeks, he absolutely couldn’t stand being at the apartment, knocking around between its empty walls by himself. Oh, the first few days had been nice, when he was buried beneath a pile of work, but he’d caught up faster than he’d anticipated. He’d taken a few days off to rest his brain and regain his sanity, and that’s when it really started to hit him.

It was so quiet, without her. 

He found he could literally go _days_ without speaking.

He’d lie awake at night, listening to the ticking of the clock, and wonder when – if – she’d return.

How was it that he, who had been a conscious loner for the vast majority of his life, could be so keenly aware of another’s absence? He thought of her as nothing more than a flighty, flirty, attractive but ultimately irresponsible girl, someone who shared his living quarters for the sake of saving money. 

So when had her fleeting presence morphed into companionship?

He sighed, ducking into the doorway of a nearby shop as a gust of wind blasted by. It must’ve been that damn Halloween party, he considered, still lost in his morose thoughts. He’d known from the second he’d seen it that she was asking for trouble with that provocative ‘costume,’ and felt that he had no other choice but to accompany her. It was a damn good thing he had, too, or else she would’ve really regretted her actions. _Hmph, maybe she already does_ , he thought mirthlessly, the memory of her failed seduction attempt flashing through the back of his mind.

Damn his sense of honor! That’s what got him into this mess in the first place. One little show of concern, and suddenly, he couldn’t _stop_ noticing her. He’d become acutely aware of her movements, so much so that it had started to drive him crazy. Bringing home that jerk, Kouga, had been the last straw – he’d just completely lost it, and now she was gone.

He sighed again as he continued on, glancing up, noticing his apartment building looming ever closer. His feet slowed of their own accord, the resistance to going back to that very empty flat rising fast and high within him. Before he even realized what he was doing, he reached out for the nearest door, pressing forward into a random shop. He stood there for a moment, dazed, his mind racing to catch up with his actions. As the haze of this unexpected action cleared, he realized he was standing in the foyer of a little café.

He closed the door abruptly, pulling off his hat as he slinked back to a corner booth. He put his bag down in the seat next to his shaking hands, utterly shocked at his reaction. One minute, he was staring at his apartment building in the distance, and the next, he was here. He’d never reacted so blindly before, but surely…?

He looked up, eyeing his fellow patrons. There was a sprinkling of people around the cozy little shop, most of them sitting in pairs, their low din of conversation filling the room. There were a few other stalwarts, like him, sitting alone, which for some reason put him at ease. 

A loner, finding a measure of peace in a crowd. 

_I’m going insane_ , he thought, sharply turning his gaze to the window.

“Can I get you something?” a pert voice asked. His attention was drawn to the petite waitress who stood by his table, pad and pen in hand. She smiled brightly at him, poised to take his order.

He gave her a cursory look before looking back out the window. “Do you serve peppermint tea?” he asked casually after a moment.

The waitress nodded. “Yes, we do! Would you like anything else?”

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and gave a minute shake of his head. “No.”

The girl bustled away, and he opened his eyes, continuing to gaze out the window. The snow was growing heavier, the wind beginning to blow a bit harder. Those willing to brave the harsh weather dwindled rapidly, and soon enough he found himself staring down an empty street.

“Here you are.”

He looked down as the tea service was placed in front to him, surprised to see a large, chocolate-frosted cookie on the accompanying plate. He opened his mouth to protest, but the waitress cut him off at the pass.

“Nobody should just drink tea this time of year,” she said softly.

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression impassive. She returned the look directly, calmly. There was something about her…the color of her hair, the twinkle in her eye, the wry smile that graced her lips…

...it was an echo of an emotion, one that simultaneously saddened and soothed him. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome,” she replied with a soft smile, before turning away. “Happy holidays, sir.”

~*~

“Whoa!”

Kagome couldn’t help but laugh when she caught the expression on her companion’s face. “Yes, the lodge is _definitely_ known for its Christmas parties,” she laughed, pushing him forward, into the fray.

“I’ll say,” he murmured, openly gaping as he took in the scene before him. The ski resort’s main lodge was decked out in true Christmas excess, a sea of red and green and white. It was also filled from wall to wall with members of some of the country’s most elite families, rubbing elbows and getting down on the dance floor. Between the music and the low buzz of conversation, it was practically impossible to hear herself think.

“Why don’t you go get us a drink?” she shouted, tugging on his shirt sleeve. He nodded and set off into the sea of people, maneuvering across the room towards the refreshments. Kagome quickly found an empty table off to the side and sidled over to it, grateful to have a place to sit down and stow their coats.

She still couldn’t believe it. Inuyasha was quite literally the last person she’d ever expected to see here (…well, maybe not the _last_ ). And, not only was he here, but he had witnessed her in a very weak moment. Luckily, he was too surprised to see her to make any mention of her meltdown; besides that, he’d been heartily amused at her reaction to his presence.

He’d made himself comfortable with her that afternoon, and she’d learned quite a bit about him – most of which surprised her, considering the company he’d kept at school. Apparently he was the son of an upstart, yet increasingly powerful businessman, and had been sent to this meat-market-cum-holiday-fest as the representative for his family, to help get his father’s name out among potential investors. He seemed relieved and excited to have found a familiar face in the crowd, and they had taken to spending most of their time together.

She hadn’t known him terribly well from university, as he mostly ran with Kouga’s crowd; he’d also been one of the first to shun her after that disastrous Halloween party. She’d initially been wary of hanging out with him again, but over the course of the last week, he’d completely charmed her. He explained that he’d actually left school in November, called away by his father on urgent family business, and apologized profusely for the supposed social slight. He’d been very sincere about the whole misunderstanding, and it didn’t take long for her to begin welcoming his company. His presence had the added benefit of easing the pressure from her family to “make connections” while they enjoyed themselves out on the slopes; he also managed to engage her enough to keep her mind off her roommate woes.

She sighed as the shadow of Sesshoumaru passed through her mind. It was going to be so awkward facing him again – but she knew she couldn’t hide forever. She could only hope that he would be sorry for what he’d said to her, though she knew better than to expect an outright apology.

Still – as lovely a companion as Inuyasha was turning out to be – she wasn’t ready to give up on her attachment to Sesshoumaru. Maybe this impromptu separation would ultimately prove beneficial, to allow them to figure out what they were to each other, what they wanted from each other, and where they could go from here.

Besides, knowing that Inuyasha was still interested in her bolstered her ego, lessening the sting of her roommate’s rejection. Knowing she was still attractive to _someone_ made the idea of going home a little less frightening.

“So, what do they do at these big shindigs?”

Kagome snapped out of her reverie as Inuyasha appeared before her again, holding out a drink. She gave him a brilliant smile. “It’s just more of the same for a corporate party,” she replied with a shrug. “You know, dancing, chatting, making contacts, sealing business deals, blah, blah, blah.” She took a sip of her drink, nodding approvingly at his choice of beverage. “Oh, and there’s also the midnight kiss under the mistletoe.”

“Oh?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he downed his drink. “That sounds intriguing.”

“Only if you’re over fifty and hopelessly stodgy,” she snorted. “They only do it because the resort is closed for the new year. I guess they figure they can just import all the traditions and hope no one notices!”

He gave her an enigmatic smile and reached for her hand. “Let’s dance!”

She threw back the rest of her drink before allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. They laughed and chatted and danced, spinning around the room. Kagome completely relaxed her guard, finding herself swept up in his irreverent whirlwind. Their conversation flowed easily, covering everything from their family backgrounds, to their studies at school, to the latest news and pop culture gossip.

For the first time since Halloween, she genuinely felt like she was enjoying herself.

They danced for most of the night, stopping occasionally to have another drink or speak to a few casual acquaintances. Kagome noticed that Inuyasha was sticking rather close to her, making it quite clear that he wanted to spend his time exclusively with her. It was incredibly flattering, especially considering the number of other girls vying for his attention. It was little wonder why: he looked so exotic with his dark hair and distinctly European sense of style. He politely refused to dance with them, however, or hand out his number, managing all the while to gracefully rebuff them.

A few were miffed at being turned away, not used to being cut down so directly; those girls glared daggers at Kagome for stealing him way and keeping him to herself. She simply brushed them off without a second thought; vain, catty women weren’t worth her time. Maybe she truly _was_ doing Inuyasha a favor, keeping the husband-hunters at bay…

Such an idea amused her. He could certainly take care of himself.

As the night wound down, the younger crowd began to leave in search of fresher pleasures. 

“See what I mean, about this being the over fifty crowd?” Kagome murmured to her companion, nodding towards to the dance floor. Slower songs had been on order for the last hour, drawing out the older, more established couples. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with the others?”

Inuyasha slipped his hand into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure,” he replied softly. “I’d rather stay here with you. I’ve enjoyed our time together this week.”

She blushed prettily at his words, thankful that the lights were turned down low. They took a turn around the room, falling into companionable silence, her palm resting lightly in his. She took the opportunity to study him as they strolled along. He truly _was_ quite striking in appearance, with his longer-than-fashionable dark brown hair tied back at the nape, his coffee-colored eyes, and distinctive, angular features. She knew he wasn’t originally from Japan, that his mother was European and had raised him on the continent; such knowledge only added to his mystique. He carried himself with an air of confidence all his own, but yet…

…there was something about him that seemed almost _familiar_. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it; it was merely an echo in the back of her mind, tugging at some memory, some undefined and fleeting thought.

“So, are you going back to school after the holiday?” he asked as they came to a halt near the back of the lodge. “Or are you lucky enough to spend the rest of the break up here with your family?”

“I don’t think I’d call it ‘luck,’ to be in my family’s presence,” she replied wryly.

He shook his head. “Yeah, it is,” he countered, tightening his hold on her hand. “Sometimes you don’t know just how lucky you are until its too late.”

She eyed him, feeling puzzled, and he shrugged. “My mother died recently,” he murmured, a slight hitch in his voice. “It’s why I’m only now coming to these things; she and my dad were separated for a long time, and I didn’t know him very well.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered sympathetically, but he only shrugged again.

“It’s hard, because this world is so different from what I’m used to, but it’s who I am now,” he sighed. “He’s all I have, so I try to appreciate it as much as possible.”

She could only stare at him, unable to even fathom what that must’ve felt like. She didn’t always get along with her mother, but she didn’t know what she’d do without her.

“So you’re going back to the university, huh?” he mused, steering the conversation away from an obviously uncomfortable subject. 

She nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Classes start back in January, so it’ll be nice to have some time to get used to life on campus again.”

“Cool,” he replied with a smile. “I’m going back, too.”

Before she could respond, the lights went out completely, a spotlight shining brightly on the center of the dance floor, where a gaudily-wrapped branch of mistletoe was hanging from the ceiling. “It’s time to grant your Christmas kisses,” the DJ intoned suggestively, putting on one last, languid ballad.

Kagome stifled a laugh – and then a gasp, as she felt Inuyasha’s lips brush against hers tentatively, sweetly. A shock of surprise jolted down her spine, lighting sparks along the way. When she felt his mouth meet hers again, she responded to the gentle touch, losing herself in the sheer pleasure of being kissed again. It had been _so_ long…

…and he was _so_ good at it, tipping her head back ever so slightly, slanting his mouth over hers at a deeper, more satisfying angle…

…that it left her positively breathless.

“Merry Christmas, Kagome,” Inuyasha whispered against her lips, his voice heavy and hoarse. His arms enveloped her in a light embrace.  
She simply smiled in return, twining her arms around his neck.

“So tell me,” he murmured, closing his arms around her, “how good are my odds for continuing to see you after we return to school?”

The overhead lights began to flicker back to life as she stared at him, every nerve ending in her body standing on end, heating beneath his touch. Her head felt woozy, her heart thumping giddily as she recovered her breath, spiraling down from the emotional fire he’d had stirred up inside her. “I’d say those odds are pretty damn good,” she replied, leaning in for another kiss.


	7. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #19 – “This isn’t about you at all.”

**06\. Resolution**

Sesshoumaru sighed as he turned his key in the lock on the front door of his apartment. In addition to the load of library books he needed for the next chapter of his thesis, he was juggling a bag of groceries and a bundle of holiday-delayed mail. An initial rifle through the latter at the mailbox had only worsened his irritation, for among the stacks of bills and junk were two _nengajo_ , one from his mother and one from his grandmother. Though exquisitely decorated and pleasantly written, the postcards were silent commands, sent at his father’s behest – “come home for New Year’s.”

 _What else could go wrong today?_ he groused silently as he turned the knob. He frowned when the door didn’t budge. It was old, made of solid wood, which seemed to warp and expand with the whims of the weather. That day had been one of the coldest (and wettest) yet of the winter, bad enough to cause the wood to swell and lodge the door in its frame. For a moment, he simply stood there, closing his eyes as he gathered every fraying shred of patience he possessed. He then tensed his arms, pressing the bundles he held into his coat, and rammed his shoulder against the door.

He stumbled into the foyer, put down his bags, and gave the door a hearty slam to wedge it back into place. He leaned against it for a moment, taking in the unexpected peals of laughter that greeted him, drifting his way from the common area, and he tried to will his suddenly racing heart to slow down.

If missing Kagome had been…unanticipated, then what he felt now was positively mind-blowing.

_Relief?_

He hoisted himself up after a moment, squaring his shoulders and taking possession of his bags once more. He was careful to avoid looking at her as he passed through the common room, but the mess that greeted him in their tiny kitchen quickly chased away any warm and fuzzy feelings he might have had about her return.

He scowled as he eyed the disarray of dishes and open boxes that littered the counters. _Not even a day and it’s already a mess again_ , he thought, annoyed. _Seriously – how careless can you be?_ Dropping his groceries on the table, he turned on his heel and strode back into the common room, ready to demand an explanation and possibly, an apology.

“Kagome, wh – ” he began, only to find himself pulled up short as he caught sight of her. His heart began to thud heavily in his chest once, much to his consternation.

“Sesshoumaru,” Kagome breathed, unable to hide her eagerness at seeing him again as she shot up from her seat on the sofa. She gazed at him with a nervous expression, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, her eyes hooding slightly. “I missed you.”

He could only stare at her in response, though he was careful to hide his surprise at her impulsive statement behind his usual impassive expression. She blushed as the words rushed out of her, as if of their own volition, immediately raising a hand to cover her mouth as she averted her eyes.

A long, awkward silence stretched between them. Kagome’s expression crumbled when she realized a reciprocal greeting would not be forthcoming. Sesshoumaru instead chose that moment to look down at her companion, still seated on the sofa, watching their exchange with pointed interest.

He felt his blood run cold.

_Inuyasha?_

This was not good.

Sesshoumaru looked back at Kagome. “What’s going on?” he asked cautiously, striving to keep his tone even.

“We’re just planning a little party,” she murmured, sinking down into the sofa, reaching blindly for Inuyasha’s hand. “For New Year’s Eve. I thought it’d be nice to have a few people over, make the traditional _osechi_ , you know – have fun welcoming the new year.”

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes as he watched Inuyasha lace his fingers through hers, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. She sent him a grateful smile in return, before looking back up at her stony-faced roommate.

“Oh, come on, Sesshoumaru,” she cajoled, “it’ll be lots of fun! We’ll over have a few people over, and – well, of course you’re invited, and welcome to bring anyone you wish.”

Sesshoumaru felt singularly unmoved by her pleading, his eyes sliding back to Inuyasha. “Whose idea was this?” he queried.

Kagome furrowed her brow, standing up again and crossing her arms over her chest. “Does it matter? I mean – I met Inuyasha at the train station today, and he helped me bring in my luggage, and we just started chatting.” She smiled wistfully. “We thought it’d be cool to put something together for the holiday, and he’s agreed to introduce me to some of his friends who aren’t tight with Kouga’s crowd.”

“Hm,” Sesshoumaru replied noncommittally, the gears of his mind turning as he considered this so-called chance encounter. Why in the world was Inuyasha suddenly interested in Kagome again, after striking out with her at the Halloween party and then snubbing her for two months? 

Inuyasha’s knowing smirk and challenging gaze – not to mention his uncharacteristic silence – did nothing to put his suspicions to rest.

“Look, I’m sorry if I didn’t ask before making plans,” Kagome was saying, bringing Sesshoumaru’s attention back to her. “It was sort of spur of the moment but, well…I live here too, and should have a say in whether or not we have people over.”

Sesshoumaru lifted a brow. “I didn’t say you couldn’t have the party,” he assured her. “Quite frankly, I don’t care, as long as you keep it to the common areas and clean up afterward.” _This is very odd_ , he thought to himself. _She’s never wanted my permission before to have people over, so what makes her think she has to ask for it now?_

“Great,” she replied with a relieved smile, unfurling her arms. 

From the corner of his eye, Sesshoumaru noted – with interest – Inuyasha’s reaction to the “granted permission.”

_Hmm…_

Kagome and Inuyasha went back to making their grand plans, which apparently included a huge, traditional meal. Realization dawned across Kagome’s features as they discussed their food options, and she whirled back to Sesshoumaru. “Oh, God – sorry!” she cried sheepishly. “I totally forgot about the mess we made before.” She ran out of the room, quick to busy herself with cleaning up the dishes.

Inuyasha gazed at Sesshoumaru for a long, contemplative moment, before standing up with a languid stretch. “Fancy meeting you here,” he drawled.

Sesshoumaru took a step closer to him. “What’s your angle?” he demanded without preamble, his voice low but menacing. “Why is she suddenly so interesting to you again?”

Inuyasha’s mouth curved into a thin, irritating smirk. “What makes you think I have an angle?” he returned just as softly. “Kagome’s a cool girl, and it seems we have a lot in common.” His eyes gleamed as he held Sesshoumaru’s gaze. “We spent an intensely interesting holiday together at Father’s favorite ski resort over the Christmas break.”

When Sesshoumaru didn’t react to this little bit of news, Inuyasha shrugged. “Plus, she’s fine as hell – I don’t know how you can stand living with her and trying to keep your hands to yourself.” 

He moved to pass, but Sesshoumaru caught his shoulder before he could. “I’d advise you to rethink whatever plot you’re playing at,” he murmured in Inuyasha’s ear. “I’d hate to have to hurt you over something so trivial.”

The self-satisfied mirth drained from Inuyasha’s features as he cut his eyes to his brother. “Women’s feelings are trivial to you?” he replied sarcastically.

Sesshoumaru’s grip tightened on his shoulder. “Not this woman’s. Whatever scheme Father has put you up to, it had better not include her.”

Inuyasha’s eyes lit up at his threatening tone. “What makes you think _our_ father has anything to do with this?” he mused with feigned curiosity. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, _dear brother_ – ”

“Don’t ever call me that again, _half-breed_ ,” Sesshoumaru hissed under his breath, digging his nails into Inuyasha’s shoulder where he held him.

His irritation only served to inflate his rival’s grin. “…but your roommate is the stuff fantasies are made of. I should know.” He waggled his brows suggestively. “So tell me – are you a eunuch, or just jealous that I got to her first?”

He wrenched away from Sesshoumaru’s hold, straightening his clothes with cool confidence, before calling out to Kagome that he was coming to help her clean up.

~*~

Inuyasha’s words ate at Sesshoumaru for the rest of the evening, but no matter how he turned the situation over in his head, he couldn’t quite find it. His father’s ruthless ambition was infamous; he was well-known in the business world for his willingness to do anything in order to get what he wanted. He was an upstart in a culture of tradition, bringing a fortune made in Russian and Chinese currency into a game that was played almost exclusively in yen. He was shameless, heartless, and merciless, stopping at nothing in pursuit of his goals. He was forever scheming, planning, and plotting, putting his skillful mastery to good use when it was least expected.

Still, whatever Inuyasha was playing at didn’t seem to have any connection to their family business. Maybe he truly was after Kagome for her looks and/or personality…

…but he couldn’t push away the niggling doubt. Sesshoumaru was all-too-familiar with the way his father operated: move in under the radar, divide and conquer, and take them down from the inside. He relished the absolute control and power he could wrest away from his rivals by operating in this way. After finding Inuyasha and seeing the same sort of latent charms in him, he’d taken to grooming him as his true successor.

Their father had obviously known of his bastard son’s existence for quite some time; Inuyasha was the product of an extramarital affair gone awry eighteen years ago, and their father had secretly provided for his well-being for the entirety of his life – that is, until his mother died. With a scandal looming and threatening the empire he’d created, their father had taken matters into his own hands, paying off everyone involved to _any_ degree in Inuyasha’s life, smuggling his half-breed son into Japan, and welcoming him into the fold, with seemingly little regard for how his ‘legitimate’ family would take the news.

No one knew of Inuyasha’s true heritage; that was by his father’s command. Inuyasha had kept his mother’s maiden name as his surname, and was technically only involved in the family business as an employee of one of their father’s many holdings companies. Sesshoumaru had long been recognized as the legitimate – and only – heir, though in reality, it seemed like their father was favoring his bastard son at every turn, up to and including giving him more and more free reign within the company that was to be the first of Sesshoumaru’s inheritances.

There was certainly no love lost between the “secret” brothers.

 _No, it just doesn’t make any sense_ , Sesshoumaru thought as he lay in bed and tried (in vain) to find sleep. _Kagome isn’t a threat to my father – she grew up at a Shinto shrine, for God’s sake! Inuyasha’s pursuit of her is his own – no doubt merely wanting what he couldn’t have all those months ago…_

And yet, the troubling seeds of suspicion, already planted and beginning to bloom, would not allow his mind to rest.

~*~

Kagome grinned as she gazed over the fruits of her labor. The New Year’s party was in full swing, with a small group of (she hoped) soon-to-be new friends hanging around in the common room, enjoying the music, the company, and the food that she’d slaved over for the last two days. She felt inordinately proud of herself, planning, organizing, and preparing for tonight in less than a week, _and_ managing to pull it all off without a hitch. By some miracle, absolutely nothing had gone wrong – the food had set properly, the decorations had arrived on time, and they had purchased enough wine and champagne on their _first_ trip out to the shops.

Inuyasha had been a total dream through it all, from the initial planning to the hanging of the last decoration on the freshly purchased mini _kadomatsu_ that dotted the foyer. He wasn’t exactly the most patient person on the planet, but he knew how to get things done in a timely manner – and he knew better than to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. He’d brought over a friend, Sango, to help her with the cooking, and they had gotten along swimmingly. Neither of them were master chefs, but after a few tries (and a few trips to the shops for more Westernized fare), they had managed to produce quite the spread for their friends’ consumption.

“Having fun yet?” Inuyasha murmured in her ear as he reached for another glass of wine. 

She gave him a brilliant smile in response. “Your friends are pretty cool,” she acknowledged, taking a sip from her own glass. “I’m glad they are having fun.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” he returned breezily, draping his arm around her shoulders. “You’re an amazing person, and you throw a damn good party.”

Kagome blushed under his shower of compliments. They had seen quite a bit of each other since their midnight Christmas kiss at the ski lodge, though it had been strictly casual. If he was disappointed by that, he didn’t let it show. He’d kept his promise of introducing her to more of his friends – people not part of Kouga’s crowd, who had no reason to shun her – and she felt flattered and happy to be deemed worthy of socializing with again. He’d been an absolute gentleman – truly, everything a girl could ask for – and anybody else in her situation would’ve snapped him up in a heartbeat.

But no – she had to be all complicated and indecisive. For all that he made her feel like a princess in his attentive company, her heart still longed for the stubborn, elusive Sesshoumaru.

It was the little things – like how she’d found him making tea one night, sitting alone in the kitchen, in the dark. She’d joined him, noting with surprise and pleasure that he’d purchased another box of peppermint tea to replace the one he’d consumed in her absence, and they’d sat in silence, but at ease. It was almost as if…the simple art of sharing tea was enough to wash away the awkwardness that had settled between them. 

He hadn’t mentioned any sort of annoyance about her upcoming party plans, or mused aloud about the company she chose to keep. In fact, he’d seemed rather preoccupied the entire time, if somehow grateful for her company. As he’d risen from his seat and rinsed out his cup, he’d given her an enigmatic smile.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he told her, and his words had made her feel warm and giddy on the inside. She’d stayed at the table long after he’d left, tracing the lines of the tea box, wondering why and how and when he’d started drinking her tea, but feeling very special that he did all the same.

Even now, flutterings of those feelings returned as the memory of that night ebbed in the back of her mind. She glanced up, catching sight of him across the room, her heart skipping a beat as she watched him make polite conversation with Sango and her boyfriend, Miroku. He was so calm, so cool – and she relished the idea, however untenable, that they could one day even have mutual friends.

 _The heart wants what it wants_ , she relented with a sigh.

Even if it made her absolutely, totally, completely miserable in the meanwhile.

 _You are pathetic_ , she reprimanded herself, straightening her spine as her eyes swept away from him. _What about your new year’s resolution, to be decisive and go after what you want? It’s time to stop waiting for the guys to come around._

“Something on your mind?” Inuyasha mused, his breath warm against the shell of her ear as he leaned close.

“Just thinking about a new year’s resolution,” she replied, granting him a coy look. “Have you made any?”

His eyes hooded and he braced the arm around her shoulder as he gazed back at her intently. “Maybe,” he murmured.

She felt herself flush hot and cold and then hot again, steadying herself as he took her glass and set it on the table behind them. _Inuyasha’s obviously still interested_ , she noted to herself as his arms settled around her waist. _So why not have a little fun now, if romance isn’t in the cards?_

“Let’s dance,” he said, giving her an experimental twirl. 

She smiled and agreed, and they joined the others on the impromptu dance floor in the middle of the common room. Time slipped by unmarked as they danced almost exclusively with each other, the swirl of other bodies around them becoming a faint blur. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and inhibitions were falling as the night wore on. Twice, she forced herself out of Inuyasha’s welcoming embrace to stop others from wandering down the hallway and nosing about in the vicinity of the bedrooms.

She frowned fiercely after dragging yet another set of grabby-handed couples back to the common room. “Is it just me, or are there more people here than were invited?” she muttered as she rejoined her date. It was as if their small crowd of twenty or so had somehow multiplied, bringing with them Eurotrash music and cheap beer.

Inuyasha glanced around the room. “I invited all of these people,” he shrugged. “I guess some of them are only now starting to show up.”

“ _What_?!” she hissed, granting him a sharp look. “You said this was going to be a ‘small, intimate gathering’!” 

“Relax,” he responded, pulling her close to nuzzle her neck. “Nobody’s going to trash the place.”

She pushed against his shoulders. “ _Relax_?!” she exclaimed. “Sesshoumaru’s going to _kill_ me! I _promised_ him this wouldn’t get out of hand!”

“And it won’t!” Inuyasha shot back, furrowing his brow. “Why are you so afraid of him? Is he – _hurting_ you or something?”

“Of course not!” she cried, pulling away from him completely. “He’d never lay a hand on me!” _That is, indeed, the root of the problem_ , she thought wryly.

“Then what’s the deal? He has _some_ sort of hold over you.” Inuyasha frowned, displeasure settling over his features as he studied her.

Kagome hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. She opened her mouth to respond, only to catch a glimpse of Sesshoumaru striding across the room, looking quite cross. “Oh, shit,” she hissed. She gave Inuyasha an apologetic look. “Just give me five minutes, okay? For my own peace of mind?”

He relented, albeit reluctantly, stepping aside and letting her go. She pushed through the crowd that was beginning to bottleneck in the foyer, absently reaching for a coat before wrenching open their warped door and stepping out into the cold.

She finally found him, standing at the corner of their building, his hands braced against the railing of the outdoor staircase that led up to the second floor. She pulled the coat closer around herself as she walked towards him, trying to figure out how she was going to explain this.

“I’m really sorry, Sesshoumaru,” she blurted out when she reached his spot.

“That’s what you call ‘a few friends’?” he murmured, moving a few steps away and wrapping his arms around the staircase’s support post in the corner. His expression was sour as he gazed out into the parking lot, not even bothering to address her directly.

She bristled at his words, even though she’d just made the same argument a scant few minutes before. “No,” she replied, burrowing into the folds of her coat as she moved closer to him. “But either way, what does it matter? It’s New Year’s Eve. You were there, having a good time, so it’s not like I interrupted your precious studying or anything.”

He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Did Inuyasha put you up to this?” 

“ _No_ ,” she huffed, genuinely confused now, as well as cold. She circled around to look him in the eye. “I knew you’d get angry with so many people invading your space, so I came to apologize for his lack of foresight. _I apologize_ , okay?” She searched his face for some sign of understanding, but found none forthcoming.

_Dammit, why do you have to be so frustrating?_

Just as she was about to give up and return to the party, Sesshoumaru deigned to speak. “He’s bad news,” he declared. “I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

“What?” The word was soft, almost breathless as it left her lips. She couldn’t suppress a smile as she gazed at him with new insight. “Are you jealous?”

“Are you blind?” he replied witheringly. 

_And asshole_ , she added silently. _Don’t forget being an asshole!_

“Do you not remember the Halloween party?” he barged on, finally letting go of the post and turning to face her directly. 

Her expression darkened. “You know I don’t,” she muttered, feeling a shameful heat flood into her face.

“Well, then, allow me to remind you,” he returned, his voice as cold as the gusts of wind blowing past. “Inuyasha tried to get you drunk so he could take advantage of you.” He narrowed his eyes. “And now I find myself wondering just what kind of person you are, that you’re so willing to forgive him for it.”

She snorted as she took in his righteously indignant expression. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe this isn’t about you at all?” she scoffed. “ _Kouga_ is the one who treated me like shit after that night. _Inuyasha_ has been nothing less than a perfect gentleman to me.” _Which is more than I can say for you_ , she thought darkly.

Sesshoumaru shook his head. “I thought you were better than that,” he sighed, as if she was some sort of grand disappointment.

“Why, because you thought I liked you?” she shot back.

For the first time in their tenuous relationship, she’d managed to stun him into silence. She took a small measure of satisfaction when she noticed his eyes widen and his jaw snap shut, whatever comment he was planning to hurl at her next forever lost.

The crackle of fireworks being shot off startled them both, but did not break the tension that brewed between them. As the sky behind their apartment building lit up in varying shades of red and green, Kagome was suddenly reminded of her new year’s resolution. _I might not have a better chance than this_ , she mused, noting how close they had drifted in the midst of their argument. 

_I’ll force him to show his hand._

Before she could change her mind, she rushed at him, throwing her arms around him and crushing her mouth against his. She held on for all she was worth as she felt him tip back, his back slamming the pole, and she swallowed his gasp of surprise – at her kiss – at her embrace – at finding himself pressed against the railing.

She broke away as his arms encircled her waist, her heart pounding against her ribcage so hard she was sure it would burst right out of her chest.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, his breath hot and hard against her lips.

“Continuing what I started,” she replied boldly, taking his mouth once more. _Now you can’t deny it, any of it_ , she thought greedily, twining her hands around his neck. _Not Halloween, the kiss on the sofa, the fight over Kouga –_

Her heart stopped when she felt him respond, tightening his hold at her waist as he whirled around, her back against the post now, pressing his body insistently into hers as he kissed her back with untold urgency.


	8. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #4 – “I need to want you.”

**07\. Discovery**

That? That was _not_ the way that was supposed to go.

Sesshoumaru took great pride in cultivating his self-control; it was a trait that would serve him well, especially if his future was to contain a great deal of high-stakes hostile merger negotiation, as was his plan. Self-control meant being able to resist temptation, to giving in to his base urges. It meant being able to control his actions and emotions at all times, to think clearly and logically even in the midst of chaos.

And he could think of no better way to describe what had just happened.

His head told him: New Year’s Eve had been a mistake. Kagome was his _roommate_ – what the hell did they even have in common? It would never work; from that point, that fleeting moment of lust, things could only go badly. He needed a bit of substance to go along with all that style, and he wasn’t entirely sure that she had any. Her life, as far as he could surmise, was a whirlwind of parties and boyfriends, flitting from one social group to another with seemingly insatiable emptiness.

His heart told him: hot holy damn but it had been a long, _long_ time since he’d felt the urge to kiss someone like that. To be that close – perhaps to take more than she was willing to give – to feel another warm body cradled so perfectly against his, so eager, so willing…

He just couldn’t find it in himself to regret what had happened. If given another chance, to go back and relive or change the course of events?

He’d probably do it all over again.

And that? Was a _very_ bad thing.

He contemplated his next move as he settled into his seat on the train the next day. His family’s estate was just outside the city, situated in a cozy little country valley. The trip would be short; the destination would demand his full attention upon his arrival. Still, he knew he had to come up with a plan for dealing with this sudden complication – and quickly.

He tried to think it through, logically, asking himself the tough questions. Where could they go from here? What did she want from him? What, if anything, did he want from her? It had been a long time since his last relationship, and his mind was currently occupied with other, far more pressing matters –

– but he found his thoughts wandering far too easily, replaying those stolen moments outside the party from a scant few hours ago: their heated argument, melting into a passionate New Year’s Eve kiss. Her saucy, bold reply to his muffled question – _“I’m continuing what I started.”_ The feel of her lips on his – her hands warm as she buried them in the folds of his coat, her hold on him tight – his head growing dangerously light as he made the split second decision to respond – his heart pumping painfully in his chest – his body growing heated as she pressed him back – the post digging into his spine.

How long had it lasted? It felt like hours while it happened, delicious moments of unrestricted heat and unadulterated lust. It felt like seconds when she unexpected pulled away, just as he reached for her. Her breath was hot and hard as it passed between her lips, her chest heaving heavily against his.

It should have ended there; it _would_ have ended there, if he’d been in his right mind.

But he wasn’t ready to let her go, not so easily, not so quickly. She kissed him again, but he took control, shifting their positions with ease. She’d unlocked a hidden part of him, unleashing a tide of desire that threatened to overwhelm him – and in that moment of weakness, he gave in. All he knew was the way her hands felt on him, and his on her, finding a pathway inside of her coat, roving across the smooth silk at her waist, digging his fingers into her back, her skin heating beneath his touch. She responded eagerly, willingly, her body rising to meet his as her tongue demanded entrance into his mouth. He went with it, one hand drifting down, tracing the line of her thigh, lifting her leg up, opening her hips, testing their fit – 

– and who knew it was possible to break a sweat in sub-freezing temperatures?

Somehow, they’d managed to stop before it went any further, before anyone else spotted them. Some primal, male part of him was deeply satisfied with her thoroughly kissed mouth, her shallow puffs of breath, the need that glittered in the depths of her eyes. She collected herself quickly, but she was slow to let him go, her fingers twining through his hair for a long moment before she parted them, skimming her hands along the line of his shoulders and down the length of his arms.

If he understood the coy look she’d given him as she’d pulled away, her touch igniting every fiber of his being –

That encounter would _certainly_ not be their last, not if he didn’t want it to be.

So…did he?

He released a long, slow breath as his train pulled into the station, allowing the other passengers to leave before he rose himself. He narrowed his eyes as he disembarked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he made his way across the terminal.

If he were to pursue this – and the chances of that were looking _very_ likely, indeed – then he’d need to know just exactly what he was getting himself into. The fact that Inuyasha was practically clinging to her still bothered him, and not merely out of petty jealousy. There was something so… _odd_ about his behavior, his sudden, dramatic re-entrance into her life.

A knot of dread formed in his stomach as he slipped into the waiting limousine that would take him to his father’s house. Love – lust – matters of the heart made people vulnerable, and he couldn’t afford to be vulnerable.

Not now. Not ever.

~*~

Just as he’d expected, New Year’s dinner with his family was a strained affair. Generations of Taishos descended upon the family estate for the first – and likely only – time of the year; Sesshoumaru exchanged much of the same dull conversation with assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins as he had the year before, and the year before that. It was something of a family tradition, albeit one that felt more as if they were talking _at_ each other, rather than _to_.

The meal itself was another tradition, large and ostentatious with fourteen different courses. The entire family gathered around the table; Sesshoumaru, his mother, and his grandmother graced one side, staring down his father and the vile half-breed he’d sired out of wedlock on the other. His grandmother had suggested it as a tactical plan, banding together with her daughter-in-law and grandson to present a united front to her son, as if doing so could somehow shame him for his reckless and disgraceful behavior.

His father pointedly ignored them instead, taking great pains to converse with everyone else seated around them.

Inuyasha, to his credit, appeared much more ill at ease, though he relaxed as their father drew him in his conversations. Sesshoumaru took the opportunity to observe their interactions, though it only served to raise his personal ire. Where was this side of his father – so warm and comforting and encouraging – when he had been a kid?

Mercifully, the meal was not prolonged. Sesshoumaru managed to slip away before the next annual tradition, relaxing in the family room to exchange veiled insults over glasses of wine and sake. He left that to his mother, who had gained an arsenal of ammunition for the exercise the moment her husband had returned with a son he’d fathered with another woman. The extended family was certainly looking forward to the fireworks, but Sesshoumaru demurred, making grand overtures about wanting to rest instead.

He escaped easily enough, but didn’t head up to his old room as the others had presumed he would. Instead, he slipped down the hall to his father’s study. He eased open the heavy door, careful to replace it in its frame before crossing the room and sitting down at his father’s desk.

It had occurred to him, as he watched his father and Inuyasha at the dinner table, that perhaps there was something to his nagging suspicions – that their father had orchestrated Inuyasha’s reentrance into Kagome’s life. The only part of it he couldn’t figure out was _why_. Inuyasha’s attraction was obvious enough, but what interest did she pose for his father?

He opened his father’s laptop and turned it on, pulling up the company-sensitive databases he knew his father used to keep tabs on anyone and everyone who had crossed his path, even nominally.

He’d run a standard background check on Kagome when she’d applied to share his lease, finding little of apparent interest – she was the only daughter of a shrine-keeper’s family, accepted to university through a vacancy, studying economics. Her social reputation had also preceded her, making him even less inclined to dig into her potentially unsavory past. 

And yet, he’d noticed a few things that weren’t adding up. She was paying her university fees out of pocket, was never late with her share of the rent, and never complained about household expenses. Her wardrobe was fashionable and extensive, and she’d probably possessed at least one version of every electronic gadget ever released. Her family took annual vacations to a ski resort, possibly the same one his father favored, which would suggest that her family was rather well off.

Or, at the very least, living beyond the modest means of a Shinto shrine family.

He didn’t have access to these databases from his own computer; they were his father’s personal files, so he’d have to take the chance while he had it. The questions were burning in his brain now – was there some possibility that she (or her family) was connected somewhere, somehow, to someone who had sparked his father’s interest? What was the seemingly mysterious source of her family’s wealth?

What was Inuyasha’s connection to it all?

Sesshoumaru deftly maneuvered through the many levels of security his paranoid father had dreamed up, until he hit the mother lode: the database that contained files detailing all of the companies his father’s company had ever merged with, or was currently planning to take over. Key players in these companies had their own separate files, with cleverly coded notes that revealed how or why they were of interest.

He stared impassively at the screen as he ran a search on her surname, unsurprised when it resulted in dozens of files. On a whim, he clicked through to the middle of the list, running his eyes over the highlighted names in that section.

He swallowed convulsively when he spotted it – an exact match.

 _So there is a connection_ , he mused, clicking on her name to open the file. He scanned the current biodata briefly, finding nothing new or of special interest. He skipped down to the coded notes, his eyes widening imperceptibly as a wave of trepidation rolled over him.

“I see,” he whispered, feeling his heart pick up speed, until it was practically hammering against his ribs. It appeared that Kagome was the daughter of the late Satoshi Higurashi, who had been the head of SHK Corporation, a holdings company that had stakes in several different high-profile businesses.

The same SHK Corporation that was his father’s greatest rival in the business, sucking up shares in near-equal capacity, if not even faster than Taisho Enterprises, his family’s company.

The same SHK Corporation where Sesshoumaru was angling for a job in the mergers department, hoping to gain the skill and experience necessary to one day take over his father’s business.

Upon her father’s death, Kagome, along with the rest of her family, had inherited one of the controlling stakes on the board of directors of the company – and with it, the power to make decisions he could only dream of.

His eyes blurred as he continued to stare at the screen. _So I see_ , he thought morosely. _I_ need _to want you_.

It made sense, tactically: taking up with her (whether just for sex, as his father might’ve done, or if their affair somehow escalated into marriage, the far more honorable course) could do wonders for his career. She could grant him the position he desired within her family’s company – or hell, maybe even something higher! Getting on her good side, learning the secret dealings, the daily ins and outs of the family business, would probably give him an opportunity to eventually lead it himself, even if only for a short while – though, even a scant few months would be long enough to make a move on what was rightfully his inheritance.

It was certainly amazing that it lined up so well – he could have her in his life and in his bed, and it would only be advantageous to him. The cost-risk ratio was firmly in favor of following his baser urges.

So why did it make his stomach turn in disgust?

“Well, well, well,” boomed a voice from the doorway, startling Sesshoumaru from his reverie. “I’m certainly surprised at you.”

Sesshoumaru looked up, unsurprised to see his father standing there, leaning so casually against the doorframe.

 _I’m going to be sick_ , he thought as he met his father’s bemused gaze.

“I thought you were smarter than this, Sesshoumaru,” his father continued, gliding into the room and closing the door firmly behind him. “Don’t you know you should always lock the door when you go snooping through other peoples’ things?”

The taunt spurred him; he began to close the files, though he was unable shut them all down before his father made it to his side. Nonetheless, he continued, feeling a bit of an idiot for allowing his curiosity to overwhelm his better judgment.

His father chuckled softly. “It took my getting Inuyasha involved to make you realize what was going on, eh?”

Sesshoumaru didn’t respond, staring straight ahead at the now-blank screen of the computer. “Is that why you brought him here?” he asked coolly, calmly. “I should’ve known better than to fall for your ‘out of familial obligation’ line of bullshit.”

His father laughed outright at that. “Don’t be upset, Sesshoumaru,” he breathed between guffaws. “When it became obvious to me that you weren’t going to act in the best interests of the family on this matter, I had to bring in a pinch hitter.”

Sesshoumaru glared up at his father. “How long have you known about her?”

“Since she was born, of course!” he replied jovially, slapping his son on the shoulder. “I knew everything about ol’ Satoshi, right down to how often he changed his underwear.” He shook his head, still utterly amused at Sesshoumaru’s ignorance. “The day that girl moved into your flat was the day I’d hoped to see what you were made of,” he continued with a wry cluck of his tongue. “Frankly, I’m disappointed it took this long for you to come sniffing around for more info.”

Sesshoumaru scowled. “I don’t play dirty like you,” he returned petulantly.

“Your sense of honor is admirable, if misplaced,” his father contended, giving him another slap on the shoulder. “Business is a dirty world; I’m certain I’ve taught you that.”

“Indeed,” Sesshoumaru replied, “but you go above and beyond.” He narrowed his eyes, wholly unamused by the situation he now found himself mired in. “Toying with the emotions of human beings just to buy up stakes in companies? Breaking up families, siring bastard children?” He shook his head disgustedly. “There’s dirty, and then there’s _absolutely cutthroat_.”

His father was in his face before he realized it, his features drawn into a hard mask. “And how do you think I became so powerful in one generation, when it took Higurashi just as long to merely capitalize on his family’s modest, yet long-held holdings?” he asked harshly. “I play to win.”

“Taking risks, be damned the consequences to everyone else?” Sesshoumaru returned with a sneer.

His father’s expression grew truly fearsome then, as a slow smile creased his mouth. “The dalliance with Inuyasha’s mother was not without its benefits,” he mused. “Mine was the first company from Japan to expand into Europe, after all.”

“And only at the expense of your family,” Sesshoumaru muttered.

“Actually, I’m quite glad I have another son, one who is only too willing to follow in his old man’s footsteps,” his father informed him. “Someone who _appreciates_ the life I’ve carved out for him, and is willing to do _whatever it takes_ to expand the family’s power and reach.” He sniffed as he stood tall once more, sending his signature look of dissatisfaction down the slope of his nose. “Quite frankly, Sesshoumaru, you are proving to be quite the disappointment to me. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re worth any sort of inheritance.”

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, more than used to hearing about his father’s profound disenchantment with him. Cutting him out of his legitimate inheritance was not a new threat either, though he would seriously question his father’s sanity if he attempted to leave everything to the vile half-breed instead.

“What makes you think I don’t desire power?” he murmured, lifting his eyes to meet his father’s. “I _am_ your son, after all, your flesh and blood. Your ambition flows through me just as well as it does that _gaijin_ son of a bitch. Yes, Father, I desire your power, he continued, “but I have no intention of selling my soul for it – or anyone else’s, for that matter.”

His father’s eyes glittered with mirth. “That’s a very interesting, impassioned response, coming from the likes of you,” he mused. “Perhaps, if it had been anything else – like, maybe, a willingness to see things my way, or trying to understand why I do the things I do to succeed – I would’ve been willing to redirect Inuyasha’s attentions elsewhere.”

Sesshoumaru shook his head. “I’ll never understand you,” he shot back, feeling his blood heating beneath his revulsion. _I’ll never understand how you can hate me so much. I’ll never understand why Inuyasha can’t see through your silly façade of being a caring, loving father._

“And that is truly a pity,” his father sighed, “for I feel the girl is quite better suited to you than to Inuyasha.” He shrugged, as if he had little power to control their fates. “But, I’ll do what it takes to obtain a controlling stake in Higurashi’s company and thus, cut my biggest competitor off at the knees.”

Sesshoumaru matched his father’s deadly expression with one of his own. It seemed his father had no idea about his independent plans to obtain a job with SHK, much less the fact that Kagome wanted him, and not Inuyasha. He already had a leg up in this little war, but he wasn’t about to tip his hand.

“We’ll just see about that,” he vowed.


	9. Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #02 – “I was wrong about you.”

**08\. Fantasy**

_Ugh._ Kagome reached out blindly, knocking her alarm clock to the floor just beyond her reach. It continued its incessant buzz, forcing her to actually dislodge from her warm cocoon of sheets in order to silence it. She shoved it under the bed, just for good measure, before furrowing under the covers once more.

She’d been having the most wonderful dream…

She sighed, closing her eyes, allowing the images to drift forward once more: somehow managing to catch him unaware, pressing her lips to his, kissing him _for real_ , not under the guise of sleep or alcohol. She relished it, that feeling of being so close to him – but she hadn’t expected him to respond the way he did, to kiss her back with such urgency and such need. Never in her wildest dreams had she actually expected it to work, but it had.

He’d let down his guard, allowing her a glimpse of the man beneath the icy barriers.

He wanted her. He knew it, she knew it, and he knew she knew it.

That’s what the New Year’s kiss meant – there was no going back now.

Kagome smiled to herself. _Who knew resolutions could pay such dividends?_ she wondered hazily, rolling over on her side, the bed sheets wrapping snugly around her. She was not used to this, being the pursuer – she had certainly never lacked for male attention or interest in the past, and had been content to let the guys make any and all first moves. But this one was the stubborn sort, and she’d realized the wait might prove long indeed, if she followed her usual strategy.

Not that she hadn’t tried to get his attention before; she had, only to be unsuccessful in her attempts. The first try had been a lure, pure and simple, a last-minute invitation to a now-infamous Halloween party – infamous, because she’d embarrassed herself enough to rouse his pity instead of his interest, and had gone to bed alone that night. And then there was the disaster before winter break, when Kouga had shown his true colors right there in the middle of their kitchen; Sesshoumaru had defended her honor, but for reasons other than chivalry. They’d exchanged a few heated, hurtful words and she’d fled, unable to take the humiliation of bungling everything so perfectly.

But she’d managed to clear her head – and maybe turn his – during the separation. That was when she’d realized that she was going to have to go after what she wanted, to take the chance and be the one to risk it all. Somewhere along the line, her desire for him had deepened beyond mere attraction. She could sense that there was so much beneath his surface, and for once, she wanted to be privy to it all: his heart, his mind, his soul.

She sighed, cracking her eyes open, peering across the still-dark room at her bathrobe, hanging on a hook by her closet. The intensity of her feelings scared her a little bit, but she was determined to see this through. It was a new year, after all, and one that had gotten off to a very promising start.

She lay in her bed, still tangled in the sheets, trying to dredge up the motivation to get up. As much as she wanted to laze about and relive the wonders of New Year’s Eve, she couldn’t – it was the first week of classes. This spring semester was going to be a tough one, too, which meant she’d actually have to pay attention in class. Her degree work would begin in earnest, leaving her less time to consider all of the naughty things she could do with a willing roommate…

Just as she’d managed to pull herself up, ready to abandon the warmth of her bed, she heard the crisp slam of a door from across the hall, followed by the muffled sounds of running water.

 _So, he beat me to it_ , she mused lazily, slipping back down into the mattress, burying her head in her pillow. _Hopefully he won’t be long…_

Her eyes fell closed, her mind supplying images to accompany the hushed sounds emanating from their shared bathroom: the running water at the sink as he brushed his teeth, followed by softer cascades of the same when he turned on the taps in the shower – and if she concentrated hard enough, she could almost hear the soft whip of the curtain as he brushed it aside…

…her head grew heavy, the sound of the running water lulling her back to sleep…

_He was beautiful, of course, a tall, pale, elegant Adonis. As he stepped under the spray, his shimmering hair became the color of molten silver, clinging to his face, his neck, his shoulders as he brushed his fingers through it. He gathered the heavy mass over one shoulder, revealing the refined arch of his back to her greedy eyes. She felt her breath desert her as she watched him, her eyes following the rivulets of water that flowed over him; she was envious of the intimate trail they forged along the smooth column of his spine, across the curve of his hips._

_He hadn’t yet realized his audience, so preoccupied was he in caring for his hair, massaging shampoo into the long, thick strands. Her eyes rose to watch him as he worked, the muscles of his shoulders knotting and releasing under his careful ministrations. Her heart hammered in her chest as she stood there, just beyond the filmy curtain, her hands growing clammy with the temptation to reach out and touch him –_

_– but not yet._

_She forced herself to wait, until he ducked his head under the spray once more, washing the soap from his eyes before turning his attention to rinsing his hair. Slowly, carefully, silently, she pushed the curtain to one side, joining him in the steamy mist, feeling her skin flush from the heat of the water._

_He started when she touched his bare shoulder, his eyes widening with shock when he turned to find her there. She merely smiled back at him, curling her fingers into his skin, raking her nails appreciatively along the length of his arm._

_“What are you – ” he choked out, but she cut him off, closing her mouth over his, leaning in, wrapping her arms around him. He swayed back in surprise, bringing her under the spray, and she suppressed a giggle as the warm water cascaded down her back. He steadied himself then, unfurling his arms and circling her waist, his hands still slippery with soap as he clutched at her back._

_She pressed herself close, running her fingers along the line of his jaw and down the column of his neck as she teased him with her lips, nipping and sucking and brushing against his. Her tongue darted out, licking the water that pooled at the corner of his mouth before trailing it over his chin, following the path already forged by her fingers. She smiled triumphantly against his skin as her teasing elicited a low groan of pleasure from the back of his throat._

_“Kagome,” he moaned, his voice rumbling through her as her kisses trailed across his collarbone. His hands drifted down, cupping her bottom and moving lower, his fingers sliding down the lines of her inner thighs. She allowed him to part her legs, anticipation pooling in her abdomen as she felt the heaviness of his arousal._

_“I believe you owe me an apology,” she murmured, pushing his hair over his shoulder, nipping playfully at his chest, continuing to tease him with her tongue._

_“What?” he gasped, exhaling sharply when her mouth closed over his nipple, her nails raking savagely down the planes of his back at the same time. He growled in response, shifting her against the wall, beneath the soft cascade of water, rocking his hips into hers._

_“Still think I’m not ‘your type’?” she asked pointedly, dropping her hands to his waist, curling her fingers into his skin._

_He shuddered under the weight of her accusation, tightening his grip on her legs. “I was wrong about you,” he whispered, pulling her knees apart as he hoisted her higher against the tiled wall of the shower. “Oh, God, I was so wrong about you – ”_

SLAM.

Kagome bolted up in her bed, stripping the tangled sheets away from her overheated body as she fought to catch her breath, her heart racing in her chest. Slowly, her vision came into focus in the darkness of the room. She released a shaky sigh as her nerves continued to tingle, adrenaline and naked lust still coursing through her.

 _Damn_ , she thought dazedly, glancing towards her bedroom door, wondering how long she’d lain there, indulging in her fantasy. The room – the hall – was completely silent. _This is getting out of control._

Her lips curled into a small smile as she contemplated. _So maybe it’s time to turn fantasy into reality._

~*~

Kagome took a deep breath, smoothing her hands over her skirt and giving herself a firm mental shake. She’d managed to shower and change in record time, wanting to approach Sesshoumaru before he left for the day. She hadn’t seen him more than just in passing since New Year’s; the further away that encounter became, the harder it was to hold onto her resolve.

She stood in the common room, just out of sight of the kitchen, worrying the hem of her skirt as she gathered every ounce of nerve. It was one thing to dream. It was quite another to actually turn those fantasies into reality.

She peeked around the corner, momentarily startled when she caught sight of him, standing at the kitchen sink with his back to her. He was fully clothed – unfortunately – but otherwise held exactly the same stance she’d imagined a scant thirty minutes before, shimmery curtain of hair and all. She bit her lip as her eyes ran down the length of him, realizing her fantasized version appeared remarkably close to the real thing.

She found her feet, slipping into the room and approaching him, stealthily wrapping her arms around his waist. She leaned into his back, burying her face in his hair, inhaling deeply and reveling in the feel of it against her cheek, so smooth and soft, like silk. 

“Good morning,” she murmured, her heart warming with anticipation.

He stiffened in her awkward embrace, ceasing all movement, but she held firm, eventually rewarded as he relaxed his guard. “Good morning,” he returned, swallowing convulsively.

They stood in silence for a long moment, so long that she began to feel self-conscious. Finally, he tugged away, reaching for a towel to dry his dishes. She didn’t let go of him completely, dropping one arm while the other still rested around his waist, her fingers curling into his side suggestively.

He didn’t respond to her touch, his focus solely on the ceramicware in his hands.

“Sesshoumaru,” she tried again, only to find any sexy or confident phrases stuck in her throat.

“Hm?” he mumbled, side-stepping her in order to put his dishes away. She quickly drew her arms back to her sides, her face flaming. 

_What am I doing wrong?_ she asked herself, eyeing him carefully as he moved around their small kitchen. The last time they’d been alone together, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Those memories flashed behind her eyes now, only serving to further confuse and frustrate her.

She furrowed her brow as he came to a halt beside their kitchen table, absently brushing his hair over one shoulder as he gathered his books and papers together. Desperately, she reached for another tactic, not willing to let him leave without settling the awkwardness that had risen between them.

“So,” she tried, striving to keep her voice light and pleasant, “what are your plans for today?”

He sighed, but didn’t look at her. “I have class until three, and then another meeting with my thesis advisor,” he replied, his tone neutral as he methodically packed his bag.

Her heart sank at the idea that he’d be busy all day. “Maybe we could meet for lunch?” she suggested, turning her attention to her tea cabinet, pressing herself up on her toes as she rummaged around in the back of it. “I’ll be free around noon.”

“I won’t,” he said quickly, throwing the strap of the bag over his shoulder. “Sorry.”

She cast a glance at him over her shoulder as she warmed her kettle on the stove. He was frowning as he stared down at their table, appearing even more preoccupied than usual. Her stomach clenched as she turned back to the kettle. “Dinner, then?”

When there was no response to her suggestion, she turned, only to find him walking away without answering her. Ignoring the low whistle of the kettle, she ran after him, catching up with him before he could escape completely.

“Sesshoumaru?” she said softly, taking firm hold of the sleeve of his coat. Her heart thumped furiously in her chest as she gazed at him. “Is something wrong?”

Had she managed to _completely_ misjudge the situation, or was her fumbling just _that_ obvious?

She really, _really_ hoped it was the latter. At least that she could work on…

Finally, mercifully, he looked at her, his expression softening with a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, touching the hand on his arm. “I have a lot on my mind at the moment.” He curled his fingers around hers. “Dinner would be nice.”

“Is it anything I can help you with?” she asked, unable to shield the doubt in her voice.

He gazed at her thoughtfully. “I don’t think so,” he murmured, squeezing her hand gently.

“Okay,” she replied, offering him a smile of her own, feeling reassured that she hadn’t completely fucked up by the simple fact that he was still holding her hand. “Should we shoot for seven, then?”

He contemplated her question for a moment, before giving with a firm, decisive nod of his head. “Seven it is,” he agreed, reaching for his scarf, still hanging on a hook in the foyer.

She reached for it at the same time, managing to pick it up before he could. “Let me,” she said with a smile, running her hands over the soft, woolen fabric. She wrapped it around his neck with great care, pushing the free ends over his shoulders as she leaned close, capturing his lips in an opportunistic kiss.

He was slow to respond, though he eventually did, lifting his free hand to her shoulder to hasten the moment. He broke away with a shuttering sigh, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers as he gazed at her, his expression heavy and full and absolutely unreadable. His eyes flickered to her mouth, narrowing imperceptibly, but he resisted the temptation, taking a step back and turning towards the door.

She watched him leave, cautiously optimistic. It might not have gone exactly according to her plan, but something had happened – their relationship, such that it was, appeared to be moving forward, just as she’d wanted.

She couldn’t help but wonder, however, just what it was that he was hiding from her…

~*~

Kagome sighed, twirling her pen between her fingers as the professor droned on. The first week of classes was always dull – the introductions, the instructions, the anecdotes about past classes, and, of course, the waxing philosophical on the professor’s own ambitions – but this class in particular was mind-numbingly boring.

“The Microeconomics of Business” – what a snore. 

The only good thing about those first days of classes was all the free time one could devote to other, more interesting trains of thought, and that was exactly what she was doing, carefully turning the events of the morning – and the last few days – over in her mind. With the benefit of hindsight, she was fairly convinced now that the morning, on the whole, could be considered a net win. The awkwardness of the encounter she put down to being in the unfamiliar position of pursuer, as well as the singular silence of the one being pursued. Come to think of it, anytime she’d chanced to be around him in a social situation, he wasn’t exactly warm and bubbly.

Obviously, she gave his fantasy-self far too much credit for being willing to take the lead.

She frowned as she remembered her sexy dream from that morning. It was hardly the first time she’d fantasized about fucking him, but something about this particular fantasy stuck out in her mind…but what?

_“I was wrong about you.”_

She abruptly dropped her pen as the phrase trickled through the back of her mind. It nudged another memory, of image and sensation – the abject elation she’d felt when his fantasy-self had whispered those words in her ear, feeding into the anticipatory excitement of finally, _finally_ having him – and on her terms.

 _I guess I didn’t realize how much that still bothered me_ , she mused silently, feeling her hackles rise in response to the memory of his harsh – and quite real – words, the insulting dismissal that had sent her fleeing over winter break. _Even though it’s obvious now that he doesn’t feel that way anymore…_

Or was it?

She furrowed her brow. Yes, she’d managed to wrangle a dinner date with him, but he’d been awfully evasive to her previous suggestions. Was that what he’d been so preoccupied with, trying to reconcile his image of her as an irreverent party girl with the woman he’d kissed so passionately on New Year’s? They’d both had something to drink over the course of the evening, yes, but that kind of immediate, intimate bond didn’t just _happen_ – did it?

“Meanwhile, in la-la land,” came an amused voice, breaking Kagome from her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see Inuyasha standing behind her. Only then did she realize that the rest of her classmates were also milling about, collecting their belongings and leaving the room. She flushed, unable to believe that she’d become so easily wrapped up in her own little world.

“Let’s have lunch,” Inuyasha proclaimed as she stood and began to gather her things. “I don’t know about you, but listening to econ mumbo-jumbo makes me famished!”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, this class is pretty dry,” she agreed, throwing the straps of her backpack over her shoulders. “Sucks that it’s a requirement for the major.”

Inuyasha shrugged as they walked out of the building. “I wish I felt that way,” he said jovially, pointing to a noodle shop across the street. “It’s more ‘over-my-head’ than ‘soul-crushingly boring,’ to me.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. Their conversation was brought to a halt as they placed their orders and searched for a table in the crowded shop. Finally, Inuyasha spotted one clearing out next to the door, sliding smoothly into one side of the booth before anyone else could beat him to it.

“Really,” he said, slipping out of his outer coat as she sat across from him. “My dad’s trying to bring me into the family business, and, well – it’s all still a little overwhelming at the moment.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “I thought you said you hadn’t seen your father in a long time,” she remarked. “That you lived with your mother, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but when she died, I had nowhere else to go.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind, you know, but it’s weird. I feel like I’m playing a never-ending game of catch-up.” He smiled at the waitress who brought out their food before turning his attention back to Kagome. “I’ve never really had a head for numbers, either, which doesn’t help.”

She gazed at him sympathetically. “It’s nice that your father is willing to give you a chance,” she mused thoughtfully. “Things must’ve been rough between your parents if you didn’t even get to _see_ him when you were a kid.”

His expression darkened. “It was complicated,” he agreed, turning his attention to his ramen, “but my mom and I, we managed.” He then attacked his lunch with gusto.

Kagome smiled, finding his ardent love for instant noodles rather amusing. “Well, if you need help with some of your classes, let me know,” she offered. “I’m no academic star, either, but I’ve done pretty well so far.”

“Awesome,” he replied, his eyes twinkling as he looked up at her. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.” He reached across the table for her hand, but she pulled away just as his fingers brushed hers.

She averted her eyes. An awkward silence stretched between them as she took a healthy bite out of her own noodles.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha started, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted, curling her hand in her lap. “I probably should’ve mentioned it before, but I’m – well, I’m kind of seeing someone right now, and it’s new – ”

“Hey,” he cut in with a smile, “it’s no problem.” He held both hands up in surrender. “We can just be friends.” He shook his head ruefully as he inhaled another mouthful of ramen. “Lucky bastard,” he mumbled under his breath.

She laughed over her relief, glad that he was easy-going enough to let the rejection roll off his back. Their relationship had only been casual, after all, but she hated letting people down, especially when they’d been so kind to her.

He gave her a curious look as she settled, digging into her food once again. “Mind if I ask who it is?” he asked casually.

She froze, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth, her heart suddenly beating very hard in her chest. “I’d, um – I’d rather not say,” she stumbled. After all, she contended silently, _I’m not exactly sure that we are a ‘we’ just yet…even though I’ve never wanted anybody more than I want him._

He laughed it off again, though this time it sounded a trifle more forced. “You’re right, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” he concurred. “I guess I’m just kicking myself for missing my chance.”

She shrugged, unable to suppress the light blush that tinted her cheeks. “Thanks, Inuyasha,” she said softly, pushing her food around her bowl.

“For what?” he questioned.

She felt her flush deepen. “For making me feel wanted,” she replied sheepishly.

He gave her a sharp, skeptical look. “Hey, if this guy isn’t treating you right – ”

“It’s not that,” she rushed to break in, quick to put an end to such dangerous notions. “It’s just…well, you know. It’s new and awkward.” She dropped her eyes to her food. “Just – forget it. It’s just me being insecure.”

“Hey,” he said, his tone gentle but firm as he reached for the hand that was still on the table. “You’re beautiful, and smart, and just an all-around amazing person to be around. You have nothing to feel bad about.” 

He leaned close, lifting her chin to look straight into her eyes. “You’ve been really great to me these last couple of months, and I want to do the same for you,” he vowed. “So if you ever need anything, just know – I’m here. Even as a friend.”

She smiled softly. “Yeah, the same goes for me,” she replied, giving his hand a light squeeze as it fell away from her face. “I mean – my dad was pretty heavily involved in the business world, too, so I know some of the ins and outs of things, how to deal, you know.” Her eyes met his. “If you want some pointers, I’m your girl.”

“Thanks,” he murmured with a nod, picking up his chopsticks once more. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


	10. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #22 – “I hate myself.”

**09\. Reality**

Sesshoumaru slumped further into his seat, crowded at the back of the tiny restaurant, hiding from the rest of the noisy patrons behind a thick book. His eyes wandered aimlessly over the page as his mind kicked about restlessly, refusing to absorb the information offered.

He shook himself. _Get a grip_ , he admonished, stabbing his chopsticks into his quickly cooling food. _This is important – you don’t have time to be daydreaming right now_. He was hoping to dash off a few last-minute changes to his latest thesis chapter before his meeting with his advisor that afternoon, but his mind just wasn’t in academic mode at the moment.

No, all he could think about was the luscious girl whose arms had been wrapped around him that morning, and how much he hated himself for enjoying her attentions.

He let the book fall open with a heavy thump on the table in front of him. This was not the time to be fantasizing about pretty party girls who happened to share his living space – no, this was the time to put up or shut up. This was his final semester, and he was taking two extra classes on top of writing his master’s thesis, so he had plenty to keep his mind occupied: classes, discussions, presentations, exams, papers, and the biggie – his thesis – all due by the end of May. He was motivated, all right; his entire future was hanging in the balance of him graduating from this program on time. And, for the last year and a half, he had been the most diligent person on the planet, working steadily towards that goal.

Then life decided to throw him a few curveballs, just for kicks.

The reason he couldn’t just put Kagome out of his mind like every other interesting distraction in the world was because she would play an inevitable role in his future, perhaps unwittingly. She was the daughter of the man who had been his father’s biggest business rival; because of his untimely demise, she sat the board of directors for her family company – the _same_ company where he’d been planning to secure his first post-graduate position for so long.

Not that he’d _known_ any of this about her until a few days ago, naturally.

That meant he was in a quandary, and he was, for perhaps the first time in his life, unsure of how to proceed. He had too much pride and personal honor to stoop to grubbing for the job, by means of using Kagome or her position on the board. However, it was very important that he land the post somehow, as it was a key in his plan to broker a hostile takeover of his family’s company, since his father seemed increasingly disinclined to honor his promise of allowing Sesshoumaru to gain his inheritance in the traditional manner.

And so, he faced a choice: either he could resist giving in to his burgeoning feelings for this very intriguing woman, or he could allow his emotions free reign and risk her wrath when she learned the reality of his plans.

 _I really don’t need the distraction_ , he reminded himself as he paged through the book again, eying its mercilessly tiny print, his enthusiasm for the material waning even further. _I managed to keep myself on track for this long. Giving up my social life for my studies never bothered me before. So…why now? Why her, of all people? She’s not my type…_

True, she wasn’t his “type”: she was a veritable whirlwind of friends and acquaintances, so easy with a smile for strangers, charming and delightful and slightly overwhelming to be around. She partied hard, and sometimes risked the consequences of that – such as being shunned by a particular crowd following a disastrous Halloween party – but for the most part, she appeared to live an effortless life. He’d long since revised his opinion on her depth of personal responsibility after learning of her background, but this fiery, effervescent woman was far from the type he’d dated throughout high school and university. Back then, he’d gone for the quieter type, favoring those girls with cool personalities and a love of biting sarcasm, who held themselves above the “party crowd” and were serious in their career pursuits. Not that any of these relationships had lasted very long – with the exception of one, he’d grown tired of them quickly, and cut ties with them just as fast.

His last relationship – God, had it really been three years ago already? – had ended so badly that it had driven him away from dating completely. He’d thrown himself into his studies instead, concentrating on his future and the growing rift between his own ambition and his father’s whimsy.

No one had turned his head since.

Until now.

And, of course, she was the one he shouldn’t _want_ , much less pursue. 

He sighed morosely, lifting his eyes to the lunchtime crowd. He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to look up at that moment, but his heart stopped as he caught sight of the woman in question, sitting in a booth near the door with a nauseatingly familiar companion.

Kagome – with Inuyasha.

His gut clenched as he watched them, chatting away with ease. _I see Father wastes no time_ , he mused darkly, his irritation growing with each passing moment.

His father was interested in Kagome’s family business as well, and was using one of his usual tactics to get it – namely, figuring out how to worm his way inside (this time, as per usual whenever a woman was involved to this degree, via seduction) to set up a classic divide and conquer. The only difference was that he wasn’t using himself as the bait this time – no, that role had fallen onto the bastard son’s shoulders, and Inuyasha was playing the part of pawn to perfection, it seemed.

 _So this is how it’s going to be_ , he thought as Inuyasha took Kagome’s hands in his, before reaching across the table to caress her cheek.

The gauntlet had officially been thrown: it was every man for himself, and whoever got to Kagome – or her family’s company – first, won.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched his brother work Kagome over with his practiced charm, earning pretty blushes and smiles from her in response. _You have to protect her from this_ , whispered the little voice of his conscience, a rush of primal protectiveness rolling through him. _You care about her. You see what’s happening to her, and you have the chance to do something about it._

The only question was – was he willing to risk himself in the process? 

He knew himself well enough to know that he was falling for her, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. That same sense of honor that had saved her from Kouga’s clutches was rising to his surface once more. Then, it had been simple – he’d had no stake in the matter, other than principle; he wouldn’t stand idly by when a woman was being used so callously for another’s fleeting pleasure.

Now, it was not so simple. He was running the risk of doing exactly what he’d always loathed of others: using her for his own personal gain.

 _There has to be a way_ , he thought, pushing aside his half-eaten lunch and reaching into his bag for his cell. _I can find a way to shield her from my father’s clutches…and protect myself as well_. 

He quickly typed out a text, hitting the send button with relish, before glancing back up at the pair across the restaurant.

The corners of his lips lifted in a pleased smile as he watched Kagome pull away from Inuyasha, her entire face lighting up as she read his message: _“Looking forward to this evening and am seriously regretting not making it for lunch. How about we do something at home?”_

She looked thoughtful for a moment as she considered a response, a faint blush staining her cheeks as she typed her answer. Inuyasha sank back in his seat, his annoyance plain in his features as he attacked his ramen with a bit more force than necessary. Kagome sent her message and snapped her phone shut, pocketing it as she reached for her things. Sesshoumaru watched, amused, as she shot up from her seat, waving a hurried goodbye to her surprised companion, and barreled out of the bustling shop.

When he received her reply a few seconds later, his satisfied smile only widened.

_“Just how serious are your regrets? Dinner, at home, in private? Looking forward to accepting your apologies in person – and I promise to make it worth your while.”_

~*~

Sesshoumaru threw his weight against the warped front door of his apartment, a sharp pain coursing across his shoulder and down his arm as the door finally gave way. _Goddamn winter_ , he grumbled to himself, shoving it back into place and turning the lock. _I can’t wait for this weather to be over._

He fumbled with his coat and bag, dropping the latter heavily on the floor as he reached to hang up his winter gear. He had to smile, just a little, at his own nervousness and anticipation, wondering just what sorts of plans his roommate had cooked up for them. She’d certainly shown creative ways of passing an evening in the past, albeit with other companions.

“Sesshoumaru?” Kagome called, waving a spatula as she rounded the corner of the hall from the kitchen. Her expression melted into a radiant smile as she spotted him. “You’re back!”

He nodded, his gaze sliding down the length of her as she approached. _Oh, God_ , he thought, swallowing convulsively. She was wearing it – that same skirt from Halloween – the one that brushed so suggestively against her thighs – and those boots – !

That was as far as his thoughts had the chance to wander; the next thing he knew, her body was flush against his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her mouth achingly close to his.

“I’m ready for my apology,” she purred in a throaty whisper, her breath warm against his lips.

His heart thumped heavily in his chest as he caught a whiff of peppermint in the air. He had not expected such an enthusiastic greeting – at the damn _door_ , no less – and found his hard-won internal resistance crumbling swiftly. He’d only just left his thesis advisor’s office, and he’d had precious little time to contemplate just how he was going to handle their evening together.

She, obviously, had a few ideas – very tantalizing ideas that probably had little to do with honor _or_ protection.

“I’m sorry,” he heard himself murmur, not able to even finish his breath before feeling her mouth on his. He accepted her kiss greedily, without reservation, shoving all doubts from his mind as he wrapped his arms around her. It may have been a long time since his last relationship, but he still knew how to seize such a golden, welcoming opportunity.

He broke away, lungs burning, as he felt her fingers curling into his hair at the nape of his neck. There was a soft thump behind him as she dropped the spatula; for a moment, they could only stare at each other, chests heaving, their hearts beating rapidly in unison. He held her close, one hand slipping under the hem of her shirt at her waist, the other curled into the soft space between her neck and her shoulder. His eyes fell to her lips as he leaned in for another kiss, but something else caught his attention. He turned his face slightly, taking a discreet sniff.

“Is something burning?” he wondered aloud.

Kagome’s expression shifted from sultry to surprise in two seconds flat. “Ohmigod!” she cried, pulling out of his embrace, covering her mouth with her hands. “The food!” She turned on her heel and ran back to the kitchen, leaving him standing in the foyer, every single nerve in his body jangling on end.

He had a chance to truly catch his breath then, turning back to the hooks in the hallway. _Shit_ , he thought, struggling to get his heart rate back under control. His mind was flooding with many different notions just then, but a clear and concise plan was not among them. That kiss had unlocked even deeper hidden feelings, things he hadn’t felt in a truly long time, first and foremost among them – 

God, he wanted her, and he wanted her _badly_ , so much that he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to keep himself on guard if she tried to kiss him again – much less anything else. Because kissing would lead to sex, which would lead to her heart being broken and then, perhaps, his. He just couldn’t forget _who she was_ , not entirely, not even enough to enjoy something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.

He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping one of the empty hooks by his head. _There’s no way this can end well_ , he realized morosely. _Either way, one of us – fuck, probably_ both _of us – are going to get hurt_. He took a deep breath, steeling his spine. _So, make your choice, dammit. You can head this off at the pass, before you get in too deep and contemplate ruining your life’s work, or…_

“It’s ready,” Kagome called. 

He stood, frozen in his spot, his blood pounding in his ears, his knuckles white as he gripped the metal hook. He heard her moving around the kitchen, setting the table, moving dishes. After a long moment, he managed to compose himself, letting go of the hook, putting one foot in front of the other, his stride steady and languid as he walked through their tiny apartment.

Kagome stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her hands tucked behind her back as she met his gaze directly. “I’m ready,” she said, a hint of nerves edging her tone. 

_Am I?_ he wondered. 

He cleared his throat, handing her the discarded spatula from before as he peeked into the kitchen. “You made this yourself?” he asked, impressed at the spread that covered their table.

She tossed the dirty implement into the sink from across the room. “I certainly did,” she replied with a laugh, taking his hand in both of her and leading him to the table. “With a little help from the French restaurant down the street.”

He chuckled, and immediately felt the tension between them lift. They settled into chairs opposite each other at the round table, falling into light conversation as they ate. They discussed their day – classes, professors, funny things that happen on the way to a thesis advisor’s office – and though he worked hard to keep up his side of the conversation, Sesshoumaru couldn’t help but retreat into his thoughts. He observed her surreptitiously as she chattered away. She was clad somewhat conservatively, in all black – though her top hugged her in all the right places – and she wore her hair loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. She had a special glow about her, especially when she discussed topics that truly interested her – her smile grew bigger, her laughter more forthcoming, her eyes sparkling with mirth and pleasure.

He was happy to let her do most of the talking, and even happier when she made the first move, reaching for his hand across the table, her fingers resting lightly on his. As he allowed himself to admire her beauty and engaging wit, albeit internally and entirely couched in the same impassive expression that he always wore, he also began to berate himself – for not seeing this side of her before, for not pursuing this avenue when it had first opened up...

As if being with her _before_ realizing she could control his destiny would’ve made any difference.

The end result was always going to be the same – he was always going to apply for that job with her family’s company, and she was always going to sit on the board of directors.

Still, he couldn’t help but ponder whether the road to that inevitability would’ve been paved with a lot less guilt and self-loathing if this had happened in _any_ other way.

He became so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize that their companionable silence had turned awkward. She abruptly withdrew her hand from his, pushing back from the table and clearing their plates. He poured himself another glass of wine as she moved stiffly from the table to the sink, stacking the dishes.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked, and that’s when he realized she was upset.

“Sure,” he replied, reaching over to refresh her wine as well. He had a feeling they would both need a bit of fortification – the tension that had so swiftly returned to the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

She kept her eyes on her kettle as the water heated, her stance defensive, her back to him – not that he minded so much, considering she was wearing that short little skirt…

As soon as the kettle whistled, she shut off the stove and gathered everything on a tray, bringing it back to the table. She kept her eyes pointedly lowered as she went through the motions of making their tea. She might have appeared intent to anyone else, but he could sense that her mind was preoccupied. His internal alarm continued to grow perilously as he watched her; he grabbed her arm just as she reached for the hot kettle bare-handed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, her lips quivering. “What are you hiding from me?”

His heart stopped.

She took a deep, shuttering breath. “I like you, Sesshoumaru,” she began. “I really, _really_ like you, and I want to make this work.”

He tightened his grip on her arm, sensing there was still more to come. “…and?”

“And that’s just it!” she burst out, looking up at him accusingly as she pulled out of his hold. “I’m giving this my all and it feels like you’re just absorbing it. This is a two-way street, you know.”

She barreled on before he could respond. “I know you have your doubts about me, but I also know that you like me, too, or at least find me attractive,” she huffed, absently fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. “Maybe you think I can’t handle whatever it is you’re going through that’s kept you so preoccupied, but I promise you, _I can_. I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life, from my dad dying to the mess that came afterwards – ” 

She stopped herself, shaking her head vigorously. “That’s not the point, sorry,” she continued after a moment. “The point is – I’m a big girl, Sesshoumaru, and I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” he managed to cut in, his words bringing her up short. She clamped her still-quivering lips together and looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of reassurance, and his heart broke just a little bit. She was already upset, and in this moment, he couldn’t bear the idea of adding to her pain.

A wave of total self-revulsion crashed through him. _I hate myself_ , he thought disgustedly, _but I can’t do this to her. We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it._

Because right now, all he could think about was pulling her into his arms and soothing away her tears.

“I know you can handle this,” he repeated firmly. “That’s not the problem.” He took a deep breath. “I have a lot on my mind right now, between my thesis, its impact on my future, and all of the resultant family drama…”

He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I want this, too, Kagome. Please, don’t ever doubt that,” he said directly, plainly. “And that’s why I owe you a _real_ apology. I’m sorry for the things I’ve said to you, and for driving you away over winter break. It was never my intention to hurt you.”

She nodded in response, giving his hand a grateful squeeze. “Thank you,” she murmured.

He allowed a small smile to grace his features. “Let’s just take things slow, okay?” he proposed. “There’s no need to rush into anything just yet…”

She returned his smile as her shoulders relaxed, looking for all the world as if a weight had been lifted away. “All right,” she agreed, her expression turning coy. She took a step closer to him. “I’ve never known you to be in a hurry for anything, anyway.”

He lifted an imperious brow. “Oh no?” he mused, his gaze trailing down the length of her as she closed the space between them.

“Not that it bothers me,” she added with a playful shrug, letting go of his hand as she straddled him, settling into his lap with practiced ease. “I like to be leisurely, too, especially when it comes to pleasurable endeavors.”

He felt his blood heat in his veins as she rested her elbows on his shoulders, her fingers drifting into his hair. “And do you have something pleasurable in mind right now?” he wanted to know, feigning innocence as his hands skimmed over the planes of her back.

Her eyes filled with mirth and desire as she gazed down at him. “Maybe,” she teased, lowering her lips to his.


	11. Revelation (Interlude)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #16 – “I want to break you.”

**10\. Revelation (Interlude)**

FROM: The King [i.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
TO: The Heir [s.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
CC: The Spare [i.malliard AT taishoenterprises DOT com]

DATE: 26 Jan 2009, 06:00

SUBJECT: [SECURE] Memo

_S. –_

_Good show!_

_– D._

-x-

FROM: The Heir [s.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
TO: The King [i.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
 ~~CC: The Spare [i.malliard AT taishoenterprises DOT com]~~

DATE: 26 Jan 2009, 08:45

SUBJECT: Re: [SECURE] Memo

_Mind calling off your dogs, then, your majesty?_

-x-

FROM: The King [i.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
TO: The Heir [s.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]

DATE: 29 Jan 2009, 21:00

SUBJECT: Re: [SECURE] Memo

_S. –_

_Oh, surely you jest!_

_Your greatest weakness has always been your follow through. You’d do well to take a lesson from the mongrel in these matters – move fast, strike first._

_Show me you can deliver SHK on your own, and then we’ll talk._

_– D._

~*~

“Sometimes I really hate this,” Inuyasha sighed, settling against the back of the booth in the small, quiet sandwich shop. He glanced morosely at Kagome. “Who knew business could be so shady?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile before taking a bite of her sandwich. “Well, it _is_ a high-stakes enterprise,” she said wryly, “and people play to win.”

Inuyasha wrinkled his brow as he studied his uneaten lunch. “Maybe, but my dad is starting to use some pretty brazen tactics to get what he wants.”

Kagome shrugged. “ _Quelle surprise_ ,” she mused, earning a surprised and admiring look from her companion. “The newbies are always the ones taking the risks – gambling it all is the only way to get ahead in the game. And that’s all this _is_ to these people – just a game.” She couldn’t suppress a shudder of disgust. “Power means everything to them, and the rest of it is just an intellectual exercise.”

Inuyasha’s expression fell. “I guess…” he murmured, his thoughts trailing off.

Kagome’s heart went out to her companion as she studied him; he seemed to be growing more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment, no doubt thinking about – and putting into perspective – all of the stunts that his father was pulling in the name of the family business. Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later, when he suddenly said, “He’s pretty ruthless…it’s kinda eye-opening, really.”

“Yeah, your illusions about what a great and humble man your father must be to lead such a successful enterprise are shattered pretty quickly, when you learn what he _really_ does for a living,” she sighed, reaching for his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I wish I could say it gets easier to deal with, but…”

She averted her eyes, picking at the other half of her sandwich.

“But what?” he prompted curiously.

She pursed her lips, thinning them in a grim line. “Well, I wouldn’t know,” she finally replied in a low tone. “My father decided that he couldn’t take it anymore after a business deal went wrong, and he lost the main source of funding for the shrine.” Her vision blurred as she stared at her plate, wiping the crumbs from her fingers.

Suddenly, she wasn’t all that hungry anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Inuyasha said quietly after a moment.

Kagome nodded, biting her lip in a vain attempt to calm herself. Her father’s death was still very hard for her to think about, even though five years now stood between her and the horrible memory. Images flashed unbidden through the back of her mind: her mother’s anguished cry at discovering the body – the ambulance arriving to take him away – the somber, heavy atmosphere that permeated the funeral, which her grandfather had refused to attend – the split down family lines when his will was discovered and disseminated…

Inuyasha, noticing her suddenly solemn state, left his side of the table and slid into the booth next to her, immediately wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Know what the worst part about the whole thing was?” she asked, her voice gravelly with unshed tears. She didn’t wait for him to respond. “The way my family’s company was handled after his death – it was absolutely despicable.”

Inuyasha’s eyebrows shot up as he caught her eye. 

She wasn’t surprised at his reaction, given the sheer, strident bitterness of her tone. “You want to talk ruthless? My father’s business partners all said the right things right after it happened, and attended the funeral and all of the services – but the second he was in the ground, they were scrambling like ants to pick up what was left of the company.” 

She winced at the memory, and how hurtful it was to realize that her father’s business partners had never truly been his friends. “They fought amongst themselves about how best to divide up his assets, who would get the most stock, or the most votes on the board of directors. A couple of them even _courted my mother_ – !” 

She clamped her mouth shut, unconsciously balling her hands into fists as a wave of revulsion at the memory momentarily overwhelmed her. “My father hadn’t been dead for six months, but they didn’t care,” she spat. “They didn’t even bother to hide their ulterior motives when they went after her.”

Inuyasha swallowed convulsively. “Wow. That really sucks.”

Kagome nodded. “At least we had Jii-chan,” she continued softly. “Jii-chan, the shrine priest, who demanded propriety from all of us, but especially from her – he’s very big on family tradition, and even though my father…” She stopped; it was still too painful to even _think_ those awful words. “He was still his son, and he still deserved at least that.” She sniffled, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “And Jii-chan probably saved my mother’s life, compelling her to obey his wishes like that.”

She looked up at Inuyasha then, her lips drawn in a thin line. “So you see? I know what lengths some men will go to for their own selfish desires,” she told him bitterly. “My mother regained her sanity, thank God, and moved the family’s interests in the company into a trust, so we wouldn’t find ourselves that vulnerable ever again.”

Inuyasha furrowed his brow as he studied her. “But you all still get a vote, right? You all have a say in the decisions that the company makes?”

Kagome snorted derisively in response. “Who gives a ten-year-old a seat on the board of directors? Like my little brother was mature enough to understand such a thing!” She shook her head and pulled out of his grasp, averting her eyes to the empty space beside her. “Let’s just change the subject, okay?”

A patch of silence stretched out between them.

“All right,” he finally replied.

He hesitated before reluctantly leaving her side, sitting down again opposite her and picking up his sandwich. “So,” he said around a mouthful, “you have any big plans for the weekend?”

Kagome took a deep breath. Though she was relieved to finally be off the subject of her father and the effect his death had on the family business, she wasn’t exactly eager to discuss her boyfriend. When Sesshoumaru had asked to take things slow, she hadn’t realized he’d meant _this_ slow. They’d been together for over a month, and she still hadn’t seen the inside of his bedroom – or convinced him to spend the night in hers.

Still, she couldn’t help but hold out a little hope – maybe he was secretly a romantic, and planning to sweep her off her feet for Valentine’s Day. Such a surprise would certainly be worth the agony of waiting, in her estimation.

She plastered a smile on her face as she turned her gaze back to her companion. “I hope so!” she said brightly, a flush of pleasure rising to her cheeks.

Inuyasha lifted a brow. “You mean this mysterious boyfriend of yours hasn’t informed you of any elaborate plans for Valentine’s Day yet?” he teased. “What’s he waiting for?”

“Hey!” she protested playfully, reaching out to swat his hand when he reached for the forgotten half of her sandwich. “Maybe I _like_ surprises, did you ever think of that?” 

Inuyasha eyed her skeptically. “ _You_ , Miss Can’t-Keep-a-Secret?”

She giggled. “Okay, okay,” she considered, “maybe _that_ ’s why Sesshoumaru hasn’t told me what he’s planning yet.”

The moment his name escaped her lips, her eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. She had purposefully kept Inuyasha in the dark about the identity of her boyfriend, for two reasons: one, any time Sesshoumaru’s name came anywhere _near_ their conversation (even merely overhearing it in passing), Inuyasha sneered with disgust.

Her other reason was more selfish, but also more important: Inuyasha had become one of her dearest friends over the course of the last few months, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. She knew that he was disappointed about their casual dates never escalating into something more; given his adverse reaction to even hearing Sesshoumaru’s name, she didn’t want to know how he’d react to finding out that _he_ was the reason she’d left him in the dust.

Boyfriends, she’d had. Flings, she’d had. Great friends? _Those_ she could count on one hand – and she couldn’t afford to lose another one.

“Sesshoumaru, eh?” Inuyasha mused, his expression carefully neutral, as if he was weighing the idea – and finding it lacking.

“Yeah,” she breathed, unable to suppress the happy smile that rose to her lips. Slow progression or no, the very fact that she could call Sesshoumaru her _boyfriend_ still sent shivers of excitement racing down her spine. Never before had a new year’s resolution produced such gains so quickly! 

She snapped back to the present. “You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you, are you?” she asked, eying her companion carefully.

Inuyasha shrugged. “It’s your business, not mine.”

Kagome nodded with relief – if a bit or surprise at how well he was taking the news. Had she underestimated his attachment to her?

“Of course,” he continued matter-of-factly, flexing his hands into fists, “if he hurts you, then it _becomes_ my business.”

He offered a sheepish shrug in return to her surprised expression. “Hey, rules of the road,” he told her with a smile. “That’s why most guys never want their girlfriends to have other guy friends. We’re a protective lot.”

Kagome smiled wryly in response, noting the subtle surliness that lined his features even beneath his smile. She couldn’t help but feel flattered by the idea of being protected as jealously as he hinted. “I think Sesshoumaru can handle himself just fine,” she noted.

“As long as he gives you that same respect,” Inuyasha said firmly, “then I’ve got no beef with him.”


	12. Perception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #23 – “You remind me of me.”

**11\. Perception**

“Are you sure?” Kagome asked softly, curling her hands into Sesshoumaru’s hair.

He nodded slowly, enjoying the feel of her fingernails raking against his scalp. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed, her eyes falling closed as she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his. “So there’s nothing I can do to tempt you away from this place?” she whispered mournfully, draping her arms over his shoulders as she shifted in his lap.

He smiled. “Now, I didn’t say that,” he mused in response, tracing his fingers along the line of her jaw. “But I have to finish this – and there are far too many… _distractions_ at home that preclude my concentration.”

He was granted the response he wanted; her lips curved up, if only for a moment. She sighed again. “But you practically live _here_ these days,” she noted, a hint of distaste in her tone, gesturing to the three walls that surrounded them as they sat in the basement of the university library. “I miss you. My bed’s never been so cold.”

A wave of trepidation rose within him at her words; his heart began to beat painfully against his ribs. “It’s not forever,” he reminded her, gently padding his thumb across the crest of her cheek. “My thesis is due for formal review at the end of the month.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s just a few weeks more…”

She exhaled sharply, shifting position once more, lifting her head to look over his shoulder as she closed her arms around his neck. He could sense her disappointment in his refusal to cut his studying short; it annoyed him as much as it worried him. She hadn’t been the same since Valentine’s Day; apparently, she had been expecting a big to-do, which he’d singularly failed to deliver.

He’d tried to explain to her that holidays held little meaning for him, but he knew that his aversion ran much deeper than that. He was well aware of what she wanted from him, but it was the one thing he couldn’t give her.

Not without hurting her, at least.

“Please,” he pleaded in a low tone, “be patient with me.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his brow. “I’m trying, love,” she murmured. 

He swallowed convulsively, tightening his grip around her waist. Along with the final version of his thesis, he was to turn in applications for post-graduate internships. At the top of that list? A position in her family’s company, one he still hadn’t told her about.

One he _couldn’t_ tell her about, not when she was splayed across his lap like this, her hips rocking suggestively into his, her breath warm and seductive in his ear. All it took was one look at her to set his entire being ablaze with heat and desire – and whenever she was this close, it threatened to overwhelm him _and_ his better judgment.

He was hanging on by a precarious thread, but he couldn’t give in.

Not yet. Not like this.

Suffice to say, she was not the only one suffering for his honor.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked softly, smoothing his hands down the planes of her back.

She sat up, her expression resigned as she gazed at him. “No,” she sighed, tugging playfully on his hair. “I wish you weren’t so insistent on staying here, instead of coming home with me.”

He gave a wry look. “Dinner wasn’t enough for you?” he teased, unable to resist running his fingers along the waistband of her skirt, tucking his thumbs under it.

Her eyes hooded as she pulled a little harder on the locks of hair that she held. “Not when you deny me dessert,” she replied coyly, leaning into him, capturing his mouth in a sensuous kiss.

He yielded momentarily to her touch before recovering his resolve, guiding his hands back up to the safer territory of her back. “Rain check,” he breathed. “I just need a few more hours here, I promise. Then I’m all yours.”

She smiled against his lips. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she purred, letting him go and hoisting herself up. She heaved another sigh, heavy and exaggerated, as she stooped into one of the corners of his study carrel to gather her belongings. She pressed a kiss to his cheek as he turned back to the desk. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll be there,” he assured her with a smile, his gaze lingering on her as she slipped out of the room.

It had taken some getting used to – being in a relationship again, especially with someone as carefree and passionate as Kagome – but in the small moments, like these, he was undeniably happy.

He shifted a stack of notes on his desk, his hand inadvertently landing on the stack of applications he’d picked up earlier that day.

And it was small moments, like these, when he completely hated himself.

It had been two months – two long, glorious months since that fateful New Year’s Eve kiss. Eight beautiful weeks of coming home to her, spending time with her, indulging even half the lascivious feelings he had for her. He’d never been an openly affectionate type of person, not even with his own family, and Kagome had taken great relish in loosening his inhibitions – in private and in public. She was forever touching him – his hand, his arm, his waist, or even his hair, with which she seemed to have a particular, rather adorable, fascination.

However, even when he was the one initiating contact, she almost always ended up in control, pinning him down while she straddled his hips, pulling at his clothes (and hers), directing their course with her kisses and her touch. Not that he really even minded, especially considering her penchant for wearing short, flared skirts – but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold himself in check before things went too far.

He had always prided himself on his sense of self-control, on being able to resist all temptation in the face of an ultimate goal. He’d walked into this relationship knowing full well its dangers, and he’d thought he could handle it – find a way to enjoy her affections, to fulfill her needs, but also to protect his heart all the while, mindful of its inevitable, potentially devastating conclusion…

But he was wrong.

She was too alluring, too seductive, too sweet and kind and loyal. She was everything he never knew he wanted in a woman… and now, he was a breath away from falling in love, from giving in to her demands, from letting her into every corner of his heart.

 _I wish I could pretend that none of this was happening_ , he thought morosely as he eyed the applications. It was hard enough, trying to keep his desire for her from deepening into love; it was proving nearly impossible to overcome his libido. He hadn’t had sex in three years, and it was _really_ starting to wear on him, having to live with such temptation. It took less and less to arouse him these days – sometimes merely the brush of her leg against his was enough to make his pulse race. He couldn’t hide it from her, how much he wanted her, but he couldn’t give in to it, either. Without fail, his well-honed sense of honor and pride resurfaced before things could truly get out of hand.

He knew the glacial pace of their physical relationship frustrated her, especially in the wake of having her dreams dashed on Valentine’s Day. He knew this, because she’d only gotten more aggressive in the interim, as if she could sense just how close he was to giving in to her, as if she thought that rushing him through foreplay would get her there faster – 

– but no matter how quick her pace, he was steadfast: he absolutely would not do something that would, in the end, only cause her pain. He found no pleasure in that.

Nevertheless, it was hard to resist her advances, which was why he’d drawn the boundaries that he had. He didn’t allow her to stay the night in his room – in his bed – and he granted her the same courtesy. He spent most of the day away from the apartment, working diligently in the library when he wasn’t in class (or thesis meetings), only returning home around dinner, in an effort to keep their ‘quality time’ encapsulated in a neat, precise little window. She’d found ways to make him bend – they shared breakfast together most mornings, and met for lunch between classes – but he had yet to yield completely.

It was absolute, total _agony_ to retreat to bed alone these days, but he kept telling himself that it was for the best. He knew exactly what sort of position he was putting Kagome in, because he’d once been there himself. The last time he’d dared to give his heart away, completely and without reservation, it was thrown back in his face, with bitter, resounding laughter, by the gold-digging bitch only interested in his family’s wealth and power.

That painful memory, along with the mounting guilt of keeping something so vitally important from her, was enough to hold him quite firmly in check.

He wouldn’t be that man – and he wouldn’t force her to make that choice.

He gave himself a firm shake, pushing aside his brooding thoughts as he reached for the last of his thesis notes, determined to actually get some work done on it. He was revising the next-to-last chapter – due the next day by the end of office hours – and he wanted to ride the momentum straight through until the end. The closer he got to the finish line, the less criticism-couched-as-advice his advisor was giving him, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

Finishing his thesis was merely the first step in his master plan. With it out of the way, he could concentrate on more important things – like maybe figuring out how to have his cake and eat it, too.

~*~

Somehow, time had gotten away from him.

When Sesshoumaru finally stood, collecting his papers and stowing them away with his laptop, it was much later than he’d anticipated. And, though he would’ve gladly spent the rest of the evening picking over his word choice for the final draft of this thesis chapter, he was all too aware of the fact that he’d promised part of his night to Kagome.

He shrugged into his coat, hastily belting it and looping his bag over his shoulder. He was one of the last patrons to trickle out of the building, stepping into the chill of the early spring night air just as the library doors were locked behind him.

 _Sometimes I wonder if I’m overthinking all of this_ , he mused, his keys dangling from his hand as he moved through the parking lot towards his car. _If I was any other guy, this probably wouldn’t be an issue for them. Hell, if I was my father, this certainly wouldn’t have been an issue for him – he’d take his pleasure and run…_

He frowned as he slipped into the driver’s seat and adjusted the rearview mirror. His father was just about the last person he cared to think about, especially now, considering the man was the source of all of his problems. 

Somehow, his father had found out about his relationship with Kagome, the daughter of his biggest business rival – from Inuyasha, Sesshoumaru suspected, that conniving bastard – and now his father was laboring under the impression that he had finally fallen into lockstep with his old man’s devious ways. If he ever received word of Sesshoumaru’s plan to apply for the post-graduate internship at SHK – and, if Inuyasha was indeed his source, then he undoubtedly would hear about it soon enough – he’d obviously expect that it was a move made on his behalf, to become an inside operative in enemy territory.

The irony was bitter to the taste: Sesshoumaru was, indeed, angling for a position at SHK, but he was determined to win it on his own merits instead of on his girlfriend’s back. He wanted the job not for his father’s sake, but for his own – he was planning to use it as leverage in the hostile takeover of his inheritance, the one his father was intent to deny him after dangling it in front of him for the entirety of his life. Ever since he’d discovered his bastard child alive and well in Europe, his father had become devoted to bringing the boy into the fold by whatever means necessary – and that included positioning him quite powerfully within the company that had always been destined to be Sesshoumaru’s.

In a further show of derision for his legitimate son and heir – or hell, maybe just for his own amusement – his father had also tasked Inuyasha to curry favor with Kagome, because she sat on the board of directors, and thus, held a crucial vote in the management of SHK’s business affairs. Whereas Sesshoumaru was loath to bend to his father’s will, Inuyasha seemed only too happy to play the part of the pawn. And why wouldn’t he? All he’d ever known of his long-lost father was love and affection, encouragement and devotion.

If there was one person Sesshoumaru resented more than his father, it was the very existence of his pathetic half-brother, a _gaijin_ unworthy of kissing his feet, much less sharing his blood. Had he no mind of his own? No ability to see past their father’s calculating façade? Did he truly believe that this was the path to their father’s heart – doing whatever he commanded him to, consequences be damned?

 _It’s a lost cause_ , Sesshoumaru thought as he silently navigated the drive home. _If I can’t win Father’s approval after nearly twenty years on this planet, then you don’t have a chance in hell, Inuyasha._

He’d pity his secret brother, if only he didn’t find him so despicable.

Ugh – the only thing worse than thinking about his father at a time like this was contemplating his reviled sibling. Sesshoumaru was only too happy to dismiss all thoughts about his family from his mind as he pulled into the parking lot at the complex and made his way to his apartment.

“Kagome?” he called as he shoved the door open. With the weather gradually warming, it wasn’t quite as much of a chore to get in or out anymore. He pushed it back into place and flipped the lock, surprised all the while to note that the light in the foyer was off. He turned, narrowing his eyes as he spied a soft glow from the kitchen – one that had gone out as soon as the door was closed.

After a moment’s hesitation, he dropped his bag noiselessly to the floor and slipped out of his coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by feel alone. He noticed a slow movement from the corner of his eye and turned sharply, wishing his vision would adjust faster to the darkness, attempting to discern what was there.

He took a step forward, and the common room was suddenly flooded with light.

“Oh, thank God, it’s you,” Kagome breathed, her voice quiet but shaking as she crouched in the archway leading to their kitchen. With a small sob, she dropped whatever she was holding with a loud clatter and raced towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his chest. “I was – so – _scared_ – !”

“Wait, what?” he sputtered, reeling internally as he tried to take in her present, crumbling state.

She tightened her hold on him, her tears soaking into his sweater. “I’m just – so – glad – you’re home,” she choked out, her words muffled against his chest.

His heart began to thump rapidly as her abject fear radiated into him, crashing over him in copious waves. _Stay calm_ , he told himself, closing his eyes as he drew her close, circling his arms protectively around her back. _She’ll tell you what happened if you just give her the chance_.

Not that such self-reassurances did anything to allay his internal alarms – and panic was not an emotion he particularly enjoyed.

“What happened?” he tried again, striving to keep his tone supportive, but firm.

She simply shook her head in response, her breath ragged in her chest, her shoulders trembling violently under the weight of her sobs as she curled her hands possessively into his back.

Realizing that just standing there was bringing him absolutely no answers, he began to move in the direction from whence she came, wondering what in the world could’ve gotten her so upset in the few short hours between dinner and now. A niggling bit of guilt surfaced in the back of his mind as he remembered how much she’d cajoled him into leaving the library with her... 

She shuffled alongside him, offering no resistance as he maneuvered toward the kitchen. He turned on the light, unsure of what he might find – and, upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary, his distress slowly morphed into bewilderment.

“I don’t get it,” he said aloud, looking down at the crying girl still huddled in his arms. He spotted a discarded tennis racquet from the corner of his eye, lying askance in the corner between the kitchen and the hallway, and inclined his head further, narrowing an assessing stare at it.

“Someone – followed – me – home,” Kagome managed finally, her words breaking off between sobs. She took a deep breath. “He – he even tried to come in a-after I’d locked the door. Like, _really tried to get in_!” Another sob broke through. “I was so afraid – I couldn’t even turn on the lights. I couldn’t do _anything_.”

Sesshoumaru tightened his hold on her as the explanation poured out, curling one hand protectively around her neck. She began to cry in earnest then, burrowing into him, searching out every soothing caress he could offer. He wasn’t sure what to do; he was not skilled in the art of comforting others. All he could do was hold her, and hope that it was enough.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, but gradually, she began to calm down. He turned off the light in the kitchen and guided her back to the common area, turning off that light as well. He led her to the sofa, switching on a nearby table lamp, its golden glow not quite as harsh as the overhead fluorescents. Together, they sat down, and he draped his arm over her shoulder. She continued to cry, tears trickling down her cheeks, her sobs finally silenced.

As they sat together in the mostly dark room, Sesshoumaru began to realize that this incident had shaken him far more than he cared to admit, even to himself. He wasn’t one to rue over past mistakes, but the “what if”s of the situation were creeping over him rapidly. 

What if he had accompanied her home when she’d asked him to? Would this random creepster have followed _both_ of them, or had he chosen her because she was a woman, walking alone after dark?

What if he had come home earlier, like she was expecting? Would he have caught said creepy guy in the act, thereby finding out who he was and possibly why he’d targeted her?

What if she hadn’t had the presence of mind to lock the door in the first place? Would he have come home to a scene far worse than a crying, scared girlfriend?

And, maybe worst of all…what did this all _mean_? 

If he granted these baseless worries voice, would that mean he was admitting that he was no longer standing on the brink, with half a chance in hell of protecting himself?

He dropped a kiss against her temple as her tears subsided. She tightened her grip on his waist in response, sniffling lightly as she leaned into him, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder. Even in such a position, he could feel the rigid set of her shoulders, the way her muscles constricted across her back.

He quirked a small smile as he stroked her arm lightly. Sitting like this – so close, in his arms, and yet so far from his embrace – she reminded him of himself: unwilling to let go of the hurt and fear completely, unable to relax entirely.

It was so unlike her – the carefree, confident, assertive woman he’d come to regard so deeply.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, sliding his hand under her shirt, rubbing smooth circles over the small of her back.

Her fingers curled into his side as she nodded against his chest.

 _Why don’t I believe you?_ he thought warily, his soothing caress seeming to have no effect on the stiffness of her frame. He frowned, tracing the length of her spine with one finger, finding so many knots and kinks in the surrounding muscles.

_So I’m not the only one holding back._

The thought was not as comforting as he might have expected.

“Come on,” he said after another long stretch of silence, bracing himself to stand. “I know what you need.”

“What?” Kagome whispered, puzzled. She seemed disoriented when he took her hands and pulled her upright, but he ignored that as he led her down the hall to her bedroom. She glanced up at him quizzically as she unlocked the door, but still, he said nothing, merely walking into the room and heading straight for her dresser.

“Lay down,” he instructed, arching an amused brow as he gazed over the assortment of accessories that littered the top of the bureau. “On your stomach.”

She didn’t speak as she complied with his request, rustling softly among the sheets. He chose an innocuous hair band from her collection, pushing the heavy curtain of his hair over his shoulders and tying it back.

It had been a long time since he’d done this, but it was the only thing he could think of that might possibly relax her.

He advanced to where she lay, more or less centered on her bed, her head resting on her forearms just beneath the pillows. He climbed up beside her, settling at her left, and laid his hands on her back, thumbs to the center, fingertips splayed out over her ribcage. Carefully he repeated the action over the length of her back, stopping only to unclasp her bra.

He used the friction of her shirt to his advantage, pressing hard against her shoulder blades with the heels of his hands, holding the intensity there for a long moment before dragging it down the twin planes of her back. She gasped as the pressure released at her waist, only to have it begin again at her shoulders and drift down once more.

“Breathe, Kagome,” he directed softly, running his thumbs alongside her spine. “Let me know if it hurts.”

“Mmhm,” she mumbled in response.

He caught a glimpse of her face as he shifted to her right, relieved to note that her eyes were closed, her expression calm, if guarded. He brought his hands together on the right side of her back, rubbing long, gentle circles in place, inching slowly down towards her waist. As he repeated this action on her left side, he finally felt her relax, her muscles becoming pliant beneath his ministrations. After two more sets of these palm-generated circles, he turned his attention back to her spine, using his fingertips to massage tight circles over each vertebra, careful to keep his touch light, yet firm.

He followed these more rigorous movements with another sweep of softness, merely laying his hands together over her back and drifting outward, using long, soothing strokes. She sighed deeply as she began to unwind, her shoulders relaxing into his touch. He concentrated his focus there, again using the heels of his hands to great effect, pushing outwards from the center, all the while allowing his fingertips to brush lightly over her sides.

He adjusted positions one last time, angling over her almost directly now, laying his hands over her back in a diagonal pattern and pulling them apart, the gentle touch of his fingers followed by the more intense pressure of his palms. He worked down the entire length of her back before returning to her shoulders and reversing the directions of his hands.

By the time he’d finished, she was breathing lightly, evenly, her body sinking into her mattress, her skin smooth and warm under his touch. She seemed boneless, weightless, ethereal. Her expression was one of tranquility, free of any trace of worry or fear.

Carefully, he leaned over her, pushing her hair aside and brushing a kiss across the nape of her neck.

“Where did you learn that?” she breathed, her voice so airy that he almost missed the question.

“From my mother,” he replied, slipping off of the bed and kneeling beside her to meet her gaze. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “She used to give my father and me massages after our training in the dojo.”

She reached for his hand, smiling wistfully as she brought it to her face. “Remind me to thank her for giving you magic fingers,” she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed as he caressed her cheek.

He studied her for a long moment, his hand drifting through her hair once more. The massage had probably calmed him just as much as it had her. His mother had always claimed to enjoy giving her boys rubdowns after their sparring, but he hadn’t believed her – until now.

Perhaps she was capable of demonstrating affection after all.

Sesshoumaru contemplated the thought and casually dismissed it, turning his attention back to Kagome. Her breathing had slowed and deepened into a regular rhythm, and her grip on his arm had loosened. When he tried to pull away, however, she stopped him, tightening her hold.

“Stay,” she pleaded softly.

He stilled, averting his eyes to the floor between them. If he did this – if he stayed the night with her –that meant breaking all of his own rules. 

“Please, Sesshoumaru,” she continued, opening her eyes, finding and latching onto his golden gaze. “Just…hold me?”

She was so calm, so peaceful, on the edge of sleep. Could he trust her to not tempt him?

Because if she tried – he knew he would be unable to resist.

He stood, releasing his hair from the holder, returning it to its home on her messy bureau. He steeled his spine, squeezing his eyes shut as he made his way over to the door, reaching out to switch off her light – 

– before going back and sliding into the bed next to her.


	13. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #07 – “Prove it.”

**12\. Doubt**

Kagome sighed, leaning back to dip her head under the warm spray. She was completely relaxed as she stood in the shower, a happy smile rising to her lips as memories of the night before floated through her mind.

She couldn’t remember pleading with him to stay, so rolling onto her side and coming face-to-face with him – in her bed – in the dead of night – had been nothing short of shocking. She could only stare at him, her heart racing as she realized just how close they lay…and, unfortunately, just how very clothed they still were. Nevertheless, her surprise had melted into a warm longing, filling the very core of her being as she reached for him, circling her arms around his waist, her hands drifting under his shirt. He’d stirred at her touch, opening his eyes, his vision slowly coming into focus as she gazed up at him.

“Better?” he’d whispered, drawing her close, stroking her back softly.

She’d nodded, still hovering along the plane of consciousness, and she remembered being mesmerized by the way the moonlight reflected in his golden eyes. A wave of relaxation had rolled over her as he continued to caress her, and she’d felt herself go boneless in his arms. She’d pressed herself against him, the soft rumble in his chest the last sensation she remembered before sleep overtook her once more…

…before she woke up again, reaching desperately for the loud, annoying alarm clock – 

– only to find that she was alone.

She’d swiftly pushed herself up, looking around her room for any evidence of his presence, but there was none. Light-headed wooziness had filled her as her blood resettled, and she sighed, pitching the clock under her bed before dragging herself out of bed and preparing for her morning shower.

A heaviness pooled in her belly now as the water cascaded over her shoulders, her brow furrowing as her hands drifted down between her thighs. She remembered the way she’d felt, laying there in his arms, her body tucked intimately into his. Heat flooded through her and she closed her eyes, pressing back into her memories, opening her legs further to her own touch.

Didn’t he understand?

_…his hands moving steadily over the planes of her back, driving intensity along her spine, pressing deep into her shoulders only to release at her lower back…_

Was he so oblivious?

_…his fingertips massaging tight circles over each vertebra in turn, so light yet firm…_

That when he did these things – 

_…his touch, so gentle, pulling diagonally across her back, sensations of heat and coolness flowing over her skin, penetrating her muscles, willing her to relax…submit…_

– it only made her want him _even more_?

She muffled a strangled cry as she finally brought herself to release, her back hitting the tiled wall of the shower, her breath shuttering in her lungs as her muscles spasmed around her fingers. Tears prickled behind her eyes as she spiraled down, feeling more frustrated than satisfied, the needy ache that consumed her unabated by her own hand.

God, didn’t he know that he was supposed to be helping to _ease_ these needs, not make them worse? _I’m_ living _with the guy I’m dating_ , she thought bitterly. _I’m not supposed to be contemplating waterproof vibrators anymore!_

And that just made it worse. What was _wrong_ with her, that she drove him away like this? What had she done to make him think that sneaking out of her room like he’d never even been there was a better option than waking up in her arms?

She swallowed convulsively as she straightened, reaching for her body wash and lathering up absently. She wasn’t used to this, being the aggressive one in a relationship, and after last night, she was at a complete loss. She’d never gone this long without sex, and she was to the point where she didn’t know what to think – she could only surmise that whatever the problem was, it was _her_ fault. 

Not that she hadn’t tried. It was impossible for her to keep her hands to herself when they were together. She couldn’t help it – she loved touching him, wherever he’d let her. True, he’d requested from the start that they take it slow; she’d been up for that, finding it novel, if not a little bit chivalrous. And she’d made gains fairly quickly, considering the fact that their first date had ended with her in his lap. But from there, things had stalled; she’d grown increasingly frustrated as the weeks passed and still, she found herself retreating to bed alone.

It would’ve been one thing if she’d been pushing him out of his comfort zone with her advances, but it was quite obvious to her – in more ways than one – that he was just as into their foreplay as she was. No, somehow he always managed to make himself stop, right at the last minute, just before crossing that line, where kisses turned needy and touch became sexual.

At first, she’d tried to hide her disappointment from him, but after the disaster that was Valentine’s Day (when she’d expected flowers and candy and romance, only to receive bland explanations instead), she couldn’t any longer. Instead, she’d decided to be even more assertive about her needs, rushing through their routine play, deliberately pushing him past his boundaries to see how he’d react – 

– only to meet the same fate, with him withdrawing and leaving her raw with need.

She’d gotten close, once, and only two days ago, no less. It had started slowly, as usual – curling up together in the common room after dinner, her watching TV as he read the newspaper. She’d waited patiently for him to finish, laying her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh as she gazed at the screen, readying herself so that she didn’t waste a single moment…

…and he could sense what she wanted, because he was smiling, knowingly, his eyes hooded as he turned to her, stilling the hand that softly stroked his leg, gathering her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers. Things had grown very heated very quickly, and she relished the sense of urgency he seemed to have this time, so different from his usual, staid nature.

She’d secretly thrilled when he tugged her into his lap, her knees splayed across his hips, his hands sneaking under her shirt and rising up the planes of her back, reaching for the clasp of her bra. She’d exhaled sharply against his mouth when she felt it give way; he hesitated in response, his hands still fixed on her back, as if afraid to follow through. She’d helped him along, easing open the buttons of his shirt and sliding her hands inside, warming her palms against his smooth, alabaster skin, trailing kisses along the line of his neck all the while. Her hands had drifted lower, still opening the buttons of his shirt, pulling the tails free from his trousers – 

– and then, somehow, they were on the floor, but she hadn’t minded at all, pulling his body flush to hers. He wanted her – God, she could _feel it_ , she was _so close_ – but then he’d abruptly broken away, separating himself completely, his chest heaving as he loomed over her on his hands and knees. Then the haze of her mind began to clear and she saw him scowl, as if in pain…and an old familiar feeling had crept back into her stomach.

Kagome frowned, reaching for the shower head and rinsing the soap from her skin. Perhaps worst of all was the fact that he was always so damn stoic and silent, never telling her why he wanted – or _needed_ – to stop, only looking at her with that muted expression…like he was hiding something from her. As she emerged from the shower, a sudden and overwhelming need to _know_ rose up within her.

Why? Why had he left her? What had she done? Was he – _ashamed_ of her, or their relationship?

That thought spurred her; wrapping herself in an oversized towel, she shot out of the bathroom, moving down the hall, past her own room, reaching for the knob of his bedroom door. She halted abruptly, her heart pounding in her ears, and she drew her lower lip between her teeth. _I’m crazy_ , she thought to herself. _I’m hormonal, and PMSing, and horny, and totally, completely insane_.

Still, she wanted to know. She had to know. If she didn’t have sex with a real, live person soon, she was going to _explode_ , dammit! 

She twisted the knob, her stomach flip-flopping when she realized that it was locked. “Sesshoumaru?” she called out tentatively, knocking on the door.

No answer.

She turned away, tears once again welling behind her eyes. She wandered through the rest of their tidy apartment in search of him, her heart falling to the lower reaches of her stomach when she realized that she was totally, completely alone.

So – not only had he left her bed without waking her, he’d left the apartment as well.

She returned to her room and quickly dressed, before pulling her books and notes together for her classes. She found herself too preoccupied to sort through the papers, however, and in the end just shoved everything in her bag when she belatedly noticed the time. She dashed out the door, pushing the fears and doubts from her mind. The last thing she needed was to be late to class – again. This would just have to wait.

The only question was – could it?

~*~

“All right, Kagome,” Inuyasha declared, crossing his arms over his chest as he leveled a pointed stare at her. “Out with it.”

Kagome furrowed her brow. “What?” she queried, looking up as if she hadn’t realized that he’d been standing beside her desk for the past five minutes.

He scowled. “I know something’s bothering you,” he insisted, “so tell me what it is.”

“Oh.” She looked down again, busying herself with the last of her class notes. “It’s nothing.”

He pursed his lips as he studied her. She sighed, wishing he’d direct his scrutiny elsewhere. It had been bad enough that she’d only just made it to class on time; too late, she’d realized they were having a spot quiz on the reading material, one of this particular professor’s favorite student-torturing tactics. And, because this was _so_ not her day, she’d been called on to explain a complicated, philosophical construct from the reading that they were to discuss in class that day – and of course she hadn’t been able to find her notes or the original paper or _anything_. It was humiliating, and did nothing to help her already anxious mood.

“I know this class is boring,” Inuyasha quipped, “but it shouldn’t be physically painful, not for someone like you.”

She gave him a wan smile as she packed her bag. “It’s nothing,” she tried again. “Let’s have lunch, okay?” She turned on her heel and walked out of the classroom, hoping he would drop the sudden interrogation. 

Truth be told, she’d spent most of the class time thinking over her personal situation, and it had only grown worse in her own mind: she remembered how busy her boyfriend always seemed to be, how he practically lived at the library these days, how he sometimes evaded even the most innocent of her questions. And yet…and yet, no matter how much he seemed to shut her out sometimes, other times he did _exactly_ the right thing. Like last night, for example – the way he’d held her, so sweetly, so calmly, so protectively…God, she couldn’t help but cherish that. It’s like he’d known exactly what to do to soothe the worst of her fears. And even without the threat of a sketchy stalker, she enjoyed their small moments together, cuddled up after dinner, feeling warm and safe and close to him.

And waking up in his arms last night – even momentarily – had been absolutely heavenly. She’d do anything to feel that way again.

“Come on,” Inuyasha cajoled, breaking into her thoughts as they settled into a booth at a local sandwich shop. “I’m your friend. Don’t you trust me?”

She smiled. Yes, he _was_ her friend – probably the best, most supportive friend she’d made in a long time. It was wonderful having someone to talk to about classes or professors, to commiserate with over papers and exams, or just to yak about whatever was going on in her life. More than once of late, she’d caught herself wondering how it was that their fates had collided like this. If she was any other girl, in any other situation, she would’ve snapped Inuyasha up in a heartbeat.

But…she wasn’t any other girl. And, for all her current worries, she was still very much attached to Sesshoumaru. Even before they had gotten together, she’d never given up hope that things would work out between them – and she couldn’t stop now, just because their relationship had hit a snag.

Even if it was a very important, elephant-in-the-room sort of snag.

“Of course I trust you,” she assured him. _There’s no way I’m discussing my sex life with you, though_ , she added silently.

A patch of silence stretched out between them as they ate, and Kagome began to relax when it seemed like Inuyasha was satisfied with her reassurances. She sighed, taking a bite of her sandwich, eyeing her companion with a bit of regret. _I wish I could talk to someone about this_ , she thought.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Inuyasha suddenly said, his words more of a statement than a question.

She couldn’t stop the blush that rose to her cheeks in response.

His eyes narrowed as he watched her. “Did he do something to you – hurt you in some way?”

 _That’s one way to put it_ , she thought wryly. “Well, not exactly,” she murmured in response.

He slammed his hand on the table. “Dammit, Kagome,” he growled, cutting his eyes away from her.

She startled at his reaction. “I told you, it’s _nothing_ ,” she reiterated. “It’s just me being insecure, as usual.”

Inuyasha dropped his sandwich, his scowl deepening as his hands curled into fists. “I knew it,” he muttered under his breath. “That bastard.”

“Hey!” she cried, “What was that for?” She had her own doubts, it was true, but she wouldn’t abide by anyone cursing him. He was _still_ her boyfriend, problems or not.

Inuyasha finally found it within himself to face her. “Don’t you know who he is?”

She frowned, puzzled. “What?”

“Your _boyfriend_ ,” he spat. “Don’t you know he’s a Taisho?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “The son of your father’s biggest business rival?” he reiterated.

She nodded very slowly, sarcasm radiating from her expression. “What’s your point?” she asked coolly, irritation rankling across her nerves.

Inuyasha was silent for a moment, as if collecting himself. “He’s applying for a position in your family’s company.”

She swallowed a gasp of surprise, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. “Okay,” she replied, striving to keep her voice calm.

“Okay,” he repeated, taking a deep breath. “Now, why wouldn’t he tell you that, huh? Because I take it he hasn’t told you.”

She looked down, unwilling to respond. How would _he_ know, anyway? So far as she could tell, Sesshoumaru couldn’t stand the sight of him, for whatever reason. “It’s no surprise, really,” she informed him nonchalantly, studying the design on the plate that held her lunch. “Considering the small and elite circle we move in, the business world tends to be pretty incestuous.”

“If that’s the case, then why hasn’t he told you, unless he has some ulterior motive?” he countered. “It’s _your_ company, after all. Could it be because he’s using you as a means to an end?” He paused, giving her a very pointed look. “That he doesn’t want _you_ , so much as the power you wield?”

Her eyes flashed with unmitigated anger as she lifted her gaze to his. “Prove it,” she challenged.


	14. Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #15 – “This is my desperation in action.”

**13\. Desperation**

Kagome paced the length of the common room in her apartment, absently putting one foot in front of the other as she anxiously chewed on the nail of her thumb. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her stomach knotted over on itself.

_Please don’t let it be true…_

This was agony, absolute agony, waiting and wondering, doubting and fearing. She cast a glance down the foyer as she passed by, half-hoping, half-dreading that the door would open at any minute, knowing all the while that she wouldn’t be ready for it.

That last conversation looped endlessly in her mind:

_“Could it be, because he’s using you as a means to an end?” Inuyasha sneered. “That he doesn’t want you, so much as the power you wield?”_

_Her eyes flashed as she met his gaze once again. “Prove it.”_

_He startled at the ferocity of her reaction, but his gaze turned thoughtful before he answered her. “I can’t,” he said simply. “But I can tell you where to find it.”_

_She narrowed an assessing glare at him. “How do you know about any of this, anyway?”_

_He shrugged, dropping his eyes to his plate. “I work for his family on the side, and there have been rumblings. Apparently his father is preparing to make a move on your family’s company, and this is, like, some sort of test, for Sesshoumaru to prove himself as a worthy successor.” He looked up at her imploringly. “I only want to protect you, Kagome – and if there’s any way I can stop him from hurting you, I will, proof positive or not.”_

Kagome crossed her arms over her chest as she continued to wear a path into the carpet. She hadn’t walked away satisfied by that conversation, but she also couldn’t put it out of her mind. She’d been steadily growing frustrated with the stunted growth of her relationship with Sesshoumaru, and those doubts were only fueled by the fire of Inuyasha’s accusations.

She had to know, once and for all – why were they together? Why didn’t he want her as much as she wanted him? Was he really just using her?

Had she misjudged him so _thoroughly_?

True, he was unlike anyone she’d ever been with, but she’d known that from the start. He was quiet, assessing, aloof, searching for a roommate who understood the fine art of being considerate. She had been struck by his unusual appearance at first, the longer-than-fashionable silver hair and mysterious golden eyes, but the more time she spent around him, the deeper her intrigue ran. He was an enigma – silent, icy, impassive, yet always so keenly aware of what was going on around him, even if he chose not to acknowledge it. He seemed content to merely observe her life instead of being sucked into the whirlwind, and she saw that at as a challenge.

It had all changed last Halloween, when she’d finally managed to get him to go out with her – even if it just casually, as friends. Somehow, she’d made a complete fool of herself – enough that he’d felt the need to swoop in and rescue her (when he’d shown no such tendency before); enough to make herself a pariah among her social set. Sesshoumaru had been there for her, in his own uniquely indirect way, during her exodus in the social wasteland, and had even defended her honor against Kouga’s nasty accusations. Unfortunately, he’d done it reasons other than chivalry, and the hurtful argument that had followed was enough to drive her away over the Christmas holiday, to mourn her misbegotten crush and lick her wounds in peace.

But, something had changed then, something she hadn’t really expected – instead of her crush fading away after confronting his cruelly honest impression of her, it only strengthened. He’d done something few others of their societal caliber were willing to, in giving her the cut direct; she’d found that she appreciated his honesty, if not his abrasiveness. She’d also realized that if she wanted him, she would have to pursue him, find a way to engage him and dig beneath his icy exterior. It wasn’t a position she was entirely comfortable with, or even used to, quite frankly. She’d always been the bait, never the hunter; she’d always been in control of the situation instead of at its mercy.

And it had been worth it – at first. All of her heartache, awkwardness, and internal struggle had been rewarded with a searing New Year’s Eve kiss, one that had led to an incredibly intense relationship. He’d let her in, at least partially, and she still was learning just how amazing he could be – so intelligent, so driven, so patient and loving, if a bit shy. Two glorious months had come and gone since that fateful kiss, some of the happiest in her recent memory, but the gild was beginning to fade.

She’d always known he was the independent type, forever holding his cards close to his chest and weighing all of his options before finally making his move. It had been – and still was, admittedly – one of the challenges in getting to know him, figuring out how to lower the barriers he held so high around himself. He maintained those self-imposed boundaries with such persistence that she’d started to wonder just what had happened in his past that could’ve possibly made him act this way. Had his heart been broken? Had his trust been betrayed?

Still…

It didn’t explain other things – such as his reluctance to have sex with her.

She shook her head, tightening the brace of her arms across her chest, a bitterly wry smile rising to her lips. She knew how petty it was to be so concerned about such a thing; after all, she was perfectly aware that there was more to a healthy adult relationship than just physical intimacy. She enjoyed the other aspects of their relationship – sharing tea at breakfast, holding hands on the way to class after lunch, curling up together to unwind at the end of the day. She was comfortable with him, and it seemed he felt the same way about her. She’d tried to rationalize why he was so hesitant about sex; maybe he was shy, or it had been awhile (forever?), or maybe he’d been insulted or berated by a former lover.

But the longer she was with him – and the closer they came to crossing that ultimate line – she realized: he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how to kiss her, where to touch her to make her gasp and write and mewl with pleasure. He even knew how to bring her down, those secret, intimate places that always melted away her frustration and anxiety and disappointment in being refused.

In the moment, at least.

If the act of lovemaking was, as she contended, the ultimate display of attraction and affection – how one showed another how much they _really_ liked them, so to speak – then what, exactly, was she doing wrong? She’d tried everything she could think of, but he was _always_ able to stop, to break away, to regain control of the situation – and himself.

The only thing left for her to do was beg, but she had her dignity.

It only made matters worse that he was always so damn stoic and silent, never telling her how or why he pulled out of her reach.

Was this the reason why – because, in reality, he was using her?

 _No_ , she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. _I just can’t reconcile such a thing to him. He’s too damn honorable._ The memory of the aftermath of that Halloween party flashed behind her eyes; she had sloppily attempted to seduce him then and there, but he’d refused to take advantage of her inebriated state. And even last night, he’d had the perfect chance to take advantage of her vulnerability following the creepy stalker incident, but he didn’t. Instead, he’d soothed her fears and calmed her nerves, staying with her, holding her through the night, in silent reassurance that she wasn’t alone –even if she’d woken up that way.

Surely such actions meant he wasn’t capable of being so callous and cruel as to use her to gain a job…?

The sound of a slam startled her from her brooding. She looked up sharply, her heart in her throat as she eyed the foyer, only to realize that it hadn’t been her front door making that sound. She bowed her head again and resumed her restless walk. _He should be coming home any minute now…am I really ready for this?_

She wasn’t a confrontational person by nature, but this was absolutely eating away at her. While Inuyasha had been unable to offer concrete evidence to back up his allegations, it had spurred her into action nonetheless. She’d cut her last class that afternoon and taken the train across town to the main headquarters of her family’s corporation. She had ready access to most of the company files, including personnel – and all of the applications for the various jobs and internships SHK had on offer. She’d checked all of them, probably leading the HR specialist to think she’d gone crazy, but her search turned up nothing. She’d even taken the time to read through the backlog of secure correspondence in her email inbox, finding nothing but nagging guilt for allowing it to languish for so long. There wasn’t the first mention of any of this season’s candidates yet; it made sense, considering invitations and applications had only been mailed out a scant few weeks before, at the beginning of March.

Still, her own lack of evidence did nothing to allay her anxiety, or her fear. She just couldn’t quite shake off Inuyasha’s accusations. _What reason would he have to lie to me?_ she’d asked herself during the train ride back home, feeling frustrated and defeated all at the same time. _After all, he’s never been anything less than totally open with me, whereas Sesshoumaru…_

It sickened her to even _think_ so badly of her boyfriend, but even from the start of their relationship, she’d had this nagging _feeling_ , like he was keeping something from her. She’d done the best she could, making herself available for him in every way she’d known how, but still, he held back, unable – or perhaps _unwilling_ – to share.

This would certainly be a good reason why, if it was true.

And so, here she stood, waiting in agony for him to arrive home, so she could find out once and for all just what the hell was going on.

_Please, God, don’t let it be true…_

She came to an abrupt halt when her phone buzzed against the table, indicating that she’d received a text. She snatched it up, flipping it open, her heart plummeting as she read the message:

_“Sorry, but my meeting with the thesis advisor is running late. Don’t wait for me re: dinner. Don’t know when I’ll be home.”_

At that moment, something inside of her snapped.

She hurled the phone across the room, heaving a deep breath, desperation clawing through her chest. _He couldn’t even bother to call?_ she thought bitterly, tears heating behind her eyes.

“And yet again, he denies me,” she said aloud, covering her face with her hands.

Really, it was becoming par for the course. She couldn’t share his body, she couldn’t share his life, she couldn’t even share his space. He’d shut her out of all of these things, without explanation.

Didn’t he trust her?

Or was there some reason that _she_ shouldn’t trust _him_?

It was too much. She couldn’t – she _wouldn’t_ – stand for this any longer.

She shoved out of the common area, pressing down the hallway towards her room, when she stopped short, eyeing his bedroom door from afar. _Desperate times call for desperate measures_ , she told herself, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she contemplated the consequences of her actions. Slowly, cautiously, she continued down the hall, her palms clammy as she reached for the knob of his door.

Locked.

Of course.

She should have expected nothing less.

She headed back to her own room, new resolve rising up within her. She hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but she knew a few ways around a simple door lock. She’d locked herself out of enough cars and rooms and apartments, for one – but there was also her younger brother Souta’s fascination with spy gear, and she’d picked up a few of his tricks. She gathered up the necessary equipment for her little expedition and returned to his bedroom door, determined to find some way in – and some answers, once and for all.

She knelt down, laying her tools on the ground in front of herself, and set to work.

Nail file. 

She knew she was violating his privacy by breaking into his room.

Hair pin.

She also knew that, no matter what (if anything) she found, that merely by doing this, she was probably ruining their relationship.

Credit card.

 _What’s left of it, at least_ , she thought bitterly, biting her lower lip in an effort to keep her turbulent emotions at bay.

Lockpick kit, courtesy of Souta.

Finally, after much resistance, she felt the telltale click of the lock giving way, and slowly, she eased open the door, taking in the sight before her. She’d never even so much as glimpsed into this room until now, such was the extent of Sesshoumaru’s bid for privacy – and yet somehow, it was so… _him_ : neat as a pin, organized to the hilt, clean and ordered and perfect.

She hesitated as she stood in the doorway, her breath shuttering in her lungs as she listened for any hint or sign that he’d returned. She slipped into the room, stealthily approaching the richly colored desk opposite, even after she was satisfied that she was the only one home. Gingerly, she lowered herself into his worn leather chair, her fingertips tingling as she contemplated where to begin her search.

She took a deep breath and reached for one of the drawers.

Time slipped by unmarked as she nosed through his things, going through all six of the desk drawers in the same nervous, yet methodical, way. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or upset when she came up with nothing, to either prove or disprove her worst suspicions. Just as she was about to give up altogether, her hand brushed aside a cadre of papers, revealing a half-hidden pile of neatly stacked pages.

“What’s this?” she murmured, feeling her heart gaining traction in her chest as she picked them up.

She exhaled sharply when she realized what she held – a set of internship applications, all filled out in his neat, elegant handwriting, all for post-graduate positions.

Her hands began to shake as she rifled through them, all of the doubts and misgivings of the last few weeks culminating behind her eyes. 

_No…_

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” boomed a cold, hard voice, shattering her concentration —

– her mind –

– her heart.

Her fingers curled around five damning pages as she slowly swiveled in his chair, turning to face him, her heated gaze rising to meet his.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied angrily.


	15. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #20 – “I hate you, you bitch.”

**14\. Confrontation**

Sesshoumaru was at the end of his rope.

It had been truly been the day from hell – a nightmare midterm in his class, followed by a long, painful meeting with his thesis advisor. He’d missed lunch, which hadn’t helped his mood, and he’d just spent the last hour and a half biting his tongue against a flood of criticism on a project that he’d _thought_ was close to being over. The closer he crept towards the finish line, however, the pickier his advisor became – over details, over phrasing, over word choice, over reference style.

 _That man can’t see the forest for the trees_ , he thought savagely, pushing through the front door of his apartment and slamming it back into place. He kept walking, straight into the kitchen, straight to the refrigerator for the leftover Thai food from the night before. He managed to calm himself enough to scoop it into a clean bowl and reheat it, watching the turntable in the microwave as it hummed away. All he wanted to do now was eat, crash, regroup in peace by himself, and perhaps seek a bit of solace in his girlfriend’s arms.

_Kagome…_

An eerie feeling of dread settled over him as he pulled his food from the microwave, ready with a pair of chopsticks to eat it, right there at the counter. He hadn’t seen her since that morning, when he’d quite reluctantly left her to sleep, looking so peaceful and happy…

…he could only hope that she’d forgive him and try to understand.

Trepidation continued to swirl through him as he rinsed his dishes and set off for his bedroom, tightening the grip on his bag when he realized that his door was ajar.

 _Shit_ , Sesshoumaru thought, coming to an abrupt halt just outside of his room. He could feel his anger and frustration resurfacing as he stared at his door. _This is the last damn thing I need right now._

He’d been figuratively poked and prodded all damn day; was it too much to ask that his personal space not be invaded as well?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled darkly, shoving his door open and barreling into the room. He couldn’t stop himself, or temper his reaction – this final violation of privacy was enough to drive him over the edge of reason.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Kagome returned, swiveling around in his desk chair to face him. Her words were as cold as her gaze was heated, burning with the fiery rage of betrayal and distress.

The pure anger radiating from her brought him up short; that feeling of dread exploded into a full-fledged wave of horror and realization as she held up the stack of internship applications he was to turn in with the final version of his master’s thesis.

“How dare you,” he accused lowly, dropping his bag to the floor and advancing towards her. “How _dare_ you go through my things?!”

She shot up from her seat. “How dare _I_?” she returned sharply, incredulously. “How dare _you_! How could you keep this from me?!”

She held her ground, her stance absolutely rigid, save a fine shimmer of rage. She glared at him with such a force that it stopped him in his tracks, his stomach taking a sickening turn, his world beginning to tilt on its axis. The wrath in her eyes matched the fury that burned through him, tinged with the slightest hint of fear.

 _You knew this was going to happen_ , he reminded himself as they stared each other down, the tension in the room ratcheting higher and higher by the second. _You knew the moment you gave in to your feelings and kept this from her that it was going to come back and blow up in your face._

Not that he found such hindsight particularly comforting at the moment.

Kagome took a deep breath in a vain attempt to control herself. “When were you going to tell me?” she burst out, her tone biting and sarcastic as she waved the offending papers in his face. “After you fucked me? Oh, that’s right, you’d _have to fuck me first_!”

Sesshoumaru winced at the crudeness of the remark, but was determined not to dignify it with an answer. Instead, he gazed back at her steadily, schooling his features into his calm, impassive mask even as his mind worked overtime to regroup, to think his way through this – and out of it.

How much did she know? What – or _who_ – was the source of her information? How had she known where to look?

In the end, could any of this be salvaged?

That question was like ice in his veins.

She began to shake as the strained silence stretched between them. Her hands curled into fists at her sides and she whirled around, slamming them down on the desk with savage force. “Goddammit, Sesshoumaru!” she cried. “ _Why_? Why did you keep this from me?” She heaved a jagged, shaky breath before glaring at him over her shoulder. “Can’t you at least tell me that much?”

He exhaled slowly, willing himself to stay in control, measuring his words very carefully before responding. “I had my reasons.”

“And those would be?” She stood tall again, crossing her arms over her chest as she half-turned, standing in profile to him.

_Because I want you._

_Because I didn’t want to hurt you._

_Because I_ don’t _want to lose you._

The words lodged in his throat, choking him, and he closed his eyes against the weight of accusation in her gaze.

When it became clear that he wasn’t – or couldn’t – reply, she spoke again. “Is this the only reason you’re with me?” she demanded to know. “Are you dating me so that I’ll grant you a job in my family’s company? Do you truly think so little of me?” He felt the heat of her glare even behind his eyelids. “Or are you really such a cold, heartless bastard?”

His chest constricted, adrenaline coursing through his body as his natural, defensive desire to fight flared up. He opened his eyes and opened his mouth, but apparently not fast enough for her liking. She bolted across the room, shoving him hard, her lips twisted into a frustrated sneer, her eyes flashing with seething, unbridled rage. 

“ _Answer me_ , dammit!” she cried, pushing him again, her hands balling into fists against his chest. Her tone was losing its cool sarcasm, quickly rising along the edge of hysteria. “Why can’t you just _want me_ , like I want you?”

He seized her shoulders before she could attack again, holding her close enough to rest his forehead against hers. “What makes you think I don’t?” he asked gently, almost desperately, wondering if she was past the point of mere words. His heart was pumping furiously in his chest, climbing up the back of his throat, threatening to bring along with it the contents of his stomach.

She pushed away, the pain in her eyes slicing straight through him. “Actions speak louder than words, Sesshoumaru,” she whispered mournfully, grasping his wrists and prying his hands from her body.

He swallowed hard. _How did it come to this?_ he asked himself, hating the way she could turn his indignation against him and make him feel weak and helpless. _When – how – did it spin out of my control?_

“What am I supposed to think when you spend the night in my bed and then leave without a word the next morning?” she asked, drawing his attention once more. 

He turned to face her, taking in the sight of her, arms crossed defensively over her chest. 

“What am I supposed to think when you won’t allow me to get close to you, physically or emotionally?” she barreled on. “What am I supposed to think when you _lie to me_?”

“I have _never_ lied to you, Kagome,” he interrupted fiercely, his mind swimming in the sea of her words – accusations, allegations, assumptions. It was as if his inner self was trying to split in two, his mind systematically shutting down while his body, led by pride, grappled desperately for the fight. “You don’t know the whole story.”

She just stared at him, mouth agape, whatever assertion she had yet to hurl at him forever lost. He watched her warily, his blood roaring in his ears, a new surge of dread railroading him when he saw her next thoughts click together.

“Don’t tell me it’s true,” she gasped, backing away from him. “Don’t tell me you’re only doing this under your father’s order!”

He scowled. “Of course not,” he spat. “My reasons for wanting this job are my own.” When this seemed to placate her just a bit, he forged on. “Who would ever tell you such a thing?”

“Does it matter?” she replied, unfurling her arms as she shrugged her shoulders helplessly. She stared at him imploringly. “What matters is that you kept this from me, even though you _knew_ it would affect me and our relationship – and what you still haven’t told me is _why_. Don’t I at least deserve that?”

“Do you really think I’m just some pretty plaything, that I’m not mature enough to handle being in a relationship with you?” she pressed on. “Do you think that I’m some vapid airhead whose attentions can be won with hollow words and empty promises? I really care about you, Sesshoumaru, and I’ve given myself to you in every way I know how – yet you’re still holding back. So, please,” she huffed, crossing her arms once more, “ _enlighten_ me – just what the hell else am I supposed to think is going on here?”

He stood silent throughout her rambling accusations, fighting to keep himself together, resentment prickling over his nerves at his own reaction to her heated contentions. She had every right to lay into him like this; he’d been half-expecting, half-dreading this day for over two months, after all. Her words, her tone, her stance were commanding even in her abject misery and frustration; if he was a lesser man, he’d already be on his knees, apologizing profusely and begging for forgiveness.

And yet…

He couldn’t help but feel rather hurt and angry himself. How could she so readily take Inuyasha’s word over his? How could she fall for his tired bullshit, so easily buying whatever slanderous lies he’d planted in her head? How could she not see that all he wanted to do, the goal he’d been working towards this whole, was to tear them apart, by whatever means necessary?

Oh, he had no doubt it was Inuyasha who had told her of this, just like he had no doubt where his vile half-brother would even get such a notion.

_It always comes back to you, Father._

“I have no interest in your family’s company,” he informed her tersely. “I’m not a pawn, pinned under my father’s thumb, feebly following orders – and quite frankly, I resent the implication.”

She eyed him doubtfully, her skepticism writ large across her face. “Then why don’t you just do your internship at Taisho Enterprises?”

“The job I’m interested in isn’t available there,” he replied.

“And what’s that?” she wanted to know, raising an eyebrow, closing the brace of her arms.

He hesitated before responding, realizing how it would sound. “Merger negotiation.”

She snorted. “And you say you’re not interested in my family’s company!”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” he shot back, his patience growing rapidly thin. “If you must know, I need this job because I’m being forced to fashion a hostile takeover of what was supposed to be my inheritance.” _No thanks to your precious Inuyasha_ , he added silently.

Her eyes fell to the floor. “So I truly am a pawn,” she breathed softly, disbelievingly. “I don’t believe this – I _can’t_ believe this!”

He resisted the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her senseless. “And _I_ can’t believe you’d trust Inuyasha instead of me,” he replied heatedly, unable to hide the disgust in his tone.

“Why not?” She lifted her eyes accusingly to his. “ _He_ ’s never given me a reason to doubt him, whereas _you_ seem bound and determined to keep me locked out of as much of your life as possible!”

 _It’s all lies!_ he wanted to scream, feeling the words rise like bile in the back of his throat, but he clamped his mouth shut against them. He could feel his blood pressure mounting, his breathing growing heavier, his rage and annoyance and shame threatening to take over the core of his being.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he told her, striving to keep his tone calm and even. “No matter what that son of a bitch tells you, it was _never_ my intention for you to get caught in the middle of all this.”

He watched her closely; the uncertainty that flitted across her features told him she _wanted_ to believe him – but the anger, the hurt, the pain were all still there, crowding out any sympathy she might have felt for his plight.

“What _am_ I to you?” she asked after a long, silent moment, her eyes searching his.

_You are…_

He reached for her then, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her to him, trying to tell her with actions what he couldn’t convey in words. He knew it was stupid and desperate – just like he knew this was the end – just like he knew that she didn’t believe him, and wouldn’t, without proof.

But _damn_ if he didn’t want it to be like this. She meant more to him than he ever thought possible, and he didn’t want to lose her. Not like this.

His heart sank as she resisted his embrace. She didn’t trust him, and without trust...

“If I asked you not to apply for the job,” she said softly, her words muffled against his chest, “…would you still do it?”

He let her go, taking a step back as he leveled his gaze at hers.

“Yes.”

It hurt him to admit as much, considering how upset he was at the thought of losing her, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to give up everything he’d worked so long and hard for. There was no looking back now – this was his plan. 

This was his _life_. 

She nodded slowly. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured quietly. Her expression crumbled. “I never wanted Inuyasha to be right...”

 _That_ got his back up. “Believe what you will,” he snapped, “but just know – _I’m_ not the one lying to you.”

She pushed past him. “I don’t know _what_ to think, or what to believe!” she burst out, throwing up her hands. “All I know is…” Her shoulders shook as she turned to face him one last time, tears spilling over her cheeks. 

“I hate you,” she choked out, whirling around and running out of the room, leaving him standing there angry – 

– distraught – 

– and alone.


	16. Distress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #14 – “I’m awake and you’re breathing.”

**15\. Distress**

Kagome jolted awake, blinking rapidly and taking a deep breath. _What?_ she thought drowsily, squeezing her eyes shut against the glare of the sun as it streamed, unfiltered, straight into her eyes. She rubbed her temple, relaxing again as she realized there was no immediate threat. _Must’ve been a bad dream_ , she sighed, tucking her head closer to her chest.

Arms tightened around her waist as she stirred, and she became aware of the solid warmth at her back. She instinctively burrowed into it as the other quiet sounds of morning brushed against her senses: the steady ticking of a distant clock, the twirl of a motorized overhead fan, the gentle rush of wind through the open window…

 _My window’s open?_ she wondered, fighting the urge to open her eyes and check. _But I don’t want to get up and close it…I’ve waited too long for this moment…_

A low but insistent pounding sensation began behind her temples, robbing her of whatever extra sleep she might have contemplated. At the same time, she felt a hand drifting lightly over her abdomen, the touch almost ticklish against her skin, before settling in soft groove at the underside of her right breast. Warm lips nuzzled her neck, and she couldn’t restrain the sigh of pleasure that escaped.

_Yes…_

What had she done to make this happen? She wanted to remember for future reference! He’d been so resistant to her advances so far…the last thing she clearly remembered was meeting him at the door in sobs, scared out of her wits after being followed home – it had all become a blur after that…

 _No wonder I’m have anxiety dreams!_ she thought to herself. _And what horrible ones at that – Sesshoumaru betraying me so callously, and out of the blue! Maybe I should stop eating ramen before bed…_

“Good morning,” her companion murmured, his breath warm in her ear as his arms tightened around her.

“Mmm,” she breathed, running her hands over his arms, following them over the curve of her body, finally lacing her fingers through his. He chuckled, low in his threat, the soft sound reverberating through his body, now intimately nestled into hers. 

She felt her token resistance crumbling as he nipped on her earlobe, and she shifted onto her back, her lips upturned to greet his morning kiss, visions of being curtained by long silver hair and looking up into the heated golden gaze of her boyfriend filling her mind.

She opened her eyes to greet her lover, and her reality shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as she found herself staring up into brown eyes instead of amber ones, framed by tousled waves of dark brown hair, not silver.

“Oh, my God!” she gasped, pushing Inuyasha away and sitting up, immediately regretting the sudden reaction as the pounding in her head exploded, pain arcing over her scalp. She gathered the sheets around herself, her face flaming as she searched her scattered memories for an explanation.

“Kagome, relax,” Inuyasha murmured, sitting up beside her and sliding his arms around her shoulders. He kissed her softly, and for a moment she melted into the sensation. As his embrace tightened, however, she pulled away, almost tumbling off the side of the bed in her haste.

“Wh-what am I doing here?” she asked, bracing her head in her hands, willing it to stop aching in lockstep with her the frantic beat of her heart.

Inuyasha frowned as he regarded her. “You don’t remember?”

And then it all came back, in a rush, the doubt and desperation and fight, pleading with Sesshoumaru to tell her it wasn’t true – and his adamant refusal to reassure her. The nightmare she wished she’d dreamed was all too real, the pain and hurt and rejection rolling over her in fresh waves as the memories assailed her. She’d been so upset that she’d just _left_ him, standing in the middle of the room she’d forcibly broken into, fleeing into the night in search of comfort and commiseration.

She didn’t remember how she’d ended up at Inuyasha’s place; the entire flight was blind and lost to her now, buried under a barrage of tears and anger. He’d given her just what she’d sought, however, readily opening his arms to her when she needed it the most. How long had she sat there, burdening him with the range of her emotions, from screaming and shouting to mournful sobbing? And he’d taken it all, so calmly, offering her a comforting shoulder to cry on.

At some point, his flatmate had returned home, and they had decided to move their two-man pity party to a local bar. She remembered finally laughing then, as he’d attempted to distract her with karaoke, daring her to sing cheesy breakup songs. Liberated by the free-flowing alcohol, she finally got up and sang, pouring her heart out to the tune of “[Song for the Dumped](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVk_e31dnlE),” a rousing hit with all the lonely singles in the room. Inuyasha had rushed the stage then, twirling her around, his laughter ringing in her ears – 

– and then it was dark, and she was desperate again, pulling at his clothes as he kissed her, the need to _feel him inside her_ clawing at her gut, directing her actions. She was greedy – needy – urgent – insistent. She didn’t care that she was drunk, that she’d walked out on her boyfriend only hours before, or that she’d long ago promised herself she’d not do anything to destroy her friendship with Inuyasha. She _needed_ to feel wanted and desired and loved; she _needed_ this physical act of bonding with another human being, after being pushed away, shut out, and betrayed.

Her face flamed now as she turned away from him, with shame – with regret. Tears welled behind her eyes, only exacerbating the merciless pounding headache of her hangover. _What have I done?_ she wondered wildly, covering her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry!” she burst out, shoulders shaking as she fought to contain her rising panic. _Great, just great_ , she silently berated herself. _First I screw things up with Sesshoumaru, and now this. Did I really need a lay this bad – bad enough to ruin a friendship?_

“I’m not,” Inuyasha replied, once again wrapping his arms around her. He pried her hands away from her face, gently running the pad of one thumb under her eyes to catch her errant tears as he held her steady.

Kagome rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. He was gazing at her with utter adoration, his touch delicate and loving, as if they’d just spent their first night together as newlyweds instead of engaging in a drunken roll in the hay. Her stomach turned as she contemplated him and his actions. _How can I tell him it’s a mistake?_ she asked herself. _“I’m sorry to break your heart, Inuyasha, but it was more of an ‘I’m awake and you’re breathing’ thing for me”??_

He shook his head, a slow smile curving his lips. “Don’t think like that,” he murmured.

She startled, wondering for a moment if he’d read her mind – or if she’d said those thoughts out loud. “Like what?” she whispered.

He tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “You feel guilty about last night,” he mused, “like maybe you were using me to get back at him, or using me for your own ‘selfish’ needs.”

She averted her eyes, absently tracing the outlines of his abdomen with her gaze, and wondered faintly just how wild she’d gotten last night. It _had_ been a long drought, after all…

He lifted her chin. “And I’m telling you, _don’t_. Don’t feel that way.”

“But – ” she began.

He swept down, capturing her lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. “But nothing,” he breathed. “This wasn’t a mistake, Kagome.”

“But our friendship – ” she tried again.

“ – can survive anything,” he interrupted, brushing his mouth against hers once more. “I want this, Kagome. _I want you_.”

Her heart seized at his words; the pounding in her head sent prickles of pain down her neck. He moved to kiss her again, but she pulled away, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t know.”

The hand at her cheek swept back into her hair. “Just think about it,” he murmured. “We’re good for each other, Kagome, and you know it.”

Suddenly, his embrace felt smothering. She pushed away, moving across the bed. “I should go,” she mumbled, looking around helplessly for her clothes, which apparently had been strewn around the room over the course of the prior evening. 

He caught her hand before she could climb off completely. “Just promise me, you’ll give it some thought?” he asked. 

She swallowed convulsively, nodding hesitantly, not trusting herself to speak. He darted forward, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “Go wash up, I’ll find your clothes,” he offered, allowing her to escape to the adjoining bathroom.

She was so quick in her flight that she didn’t see him slide off the mattress behind her, a satisfied smirk settling over his features as he sat down in front of his computer.

 

TO: The Heir [s.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
FROM: The Spare [i.malliard AT taishoenterprises DOT com]

DATE: 28 March 2009, 06:19

SUBJECT: (no subject)

_Checkmate._

~*~

Kagome’s mind reeled as she started the long journey home. She’d opted to walk the distance from Inuyasha’s apartment to hers, alone, even after he’d offered to see her safely to her door. She’d begged off; she needed time to process everything that had happened in the last day and a half, the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment: this ultimate walk of shame, back to her home.

To the apartment she shared with Sesshoumaru.

_Oh, God._

She could feel the stares of her fellow pedestrians as she dodged down the sidewalk; she self-consciously smoothed her miniskirt over her legs and wished she’d somehow had the forethought to grab a coat before storming out yesterday – spring mornings still held a bit of chill in the air. She kept her eyes focused straight ahead as she walked, but couldn’t stop herself from imagining the conversations of those around her.

_“Mommy, why is that lady so dressed up this early in the day?”_

_“Because some people make bad decisions, honey.”_

Bad decision, indeed! She didn’t know what to be more upset over – her fight with Sesshoumaru, one that had probably ended their relationship; or her conversation with Inuyasha about the future of their relationship. She didn’t quite know how to take Inuyasha’s insistence that she not be ashamed of their night together. No matter how she sliced it, she couldn’t help but feel horrible. She _had_ used him, despite his comments otherwise, taken advantage of his interest in her to fulfill her lascivious needs. No one deserved to be treated that way – especially not someone who had become such a close confidante.

But he wanted her – and she _wanted that_ , to be desired for _who_ she was instead of _what_ she was. He’d been nothing less than wonderful to her, by her side when she needed him most, cheering her on or shielding her from pain. He made her feel good and light on the inside. Most girls would’ve snapped up such a guy at the first opportunity, without looking back.

Her steps slowed as she reached her street. Holy shit, but she did _not_ want to go back to that apartment and face Sesshoumaru. Anger curled through her at the very idea of seeing him again, so stoic and silent while she raged at him, begging him over and over to tell her it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t just with her because of the power she wielded within her family’s company.

But something else propelled her forward, kept her putting one foot in front of the other – and that was the look in his eyes when she’d left him, a moment of uncloaked anger and distress. It tore at her heart to know she’d been the one to put it there, despite her fury and pain. How long had she worked on him, to break through his icy barriers in order to see the man underneath? He guarded himself so closely that even such a fleeting moment of unbridled emotion piqued her curiosity.

Now that she the time to think about it – he _had_ insisted that he wasn’t lying to her, that he’d wanted the job for reasons other than it merely being a position within her family’s company. He’d sounded so sincere, said it with such conviction and determination – God, she _wanted_ to believe him. 

And yet, at the same time – she’d seen this all before, the callous way men used and abused those around them in their quests for power. Sesshoumaru’s father was just like the rest of them, maybe even worse, considering his infamously naked ambition. Her own father had sometimes shared stories about him with her family when she was younger, recounting some of their more outrageous encounters. The apple never fell far from the tree, as they say, and if Sesshoumaru was destined to follow in his father’s footsteps, then she wanted nothing to do with him.

She would be no one’s pawn.

She halted as she came to her doorstep. _What now?_ she asked herself. 

Could their relationship be salvaged?

Did she even want it to be?

An overwhelming _**yes**_ rose in her chest as she contemplated that last question. In spite of everything – the lying, the silence, the misdirection from all sides – some little piece of her simply refused to give up on him. It was the same little piece that had brought her back on New Year’s, the same little piece that made her feel loyal to and protective of him (even though he hardly needed either), the same little piece that had bombarded her with happy memories of waking up in his arms a scant few days before, and had fueled wishful thinking for so much more.

Truth be told, it was the reason why she felt so horrible about what she’d done to Inuyasha – because, deep down inside, she knew she was already too far gone to be saved; she was head over heels in love with Sesshoumaru, and probably had been from the first moment she’d moved into his apartment. Somewhere along the way, her idle lust had deepened into something more, and it was the depth of that love that had ravaged her with pain at the very idea of his betrayal.

She felt like she was drowning in confusion.

 _Give him a chance_ , that little voice told her now. _Hear him out, and if it’s not to your satisfaction – then just leave, and don’t look back._

She nodded once, firmly, and entered the apartment.

She spotted him before she had fully prepared for it, thinking she’d have to meet him on his reclaimed turf. Instead, he sat casually on the sofa in the common room, in profile to the rising sun, a substantial stack of papers resting easily in his lap. She stopped short, involuntarily drawing a breath as her eyes swept over him, looking every inch the ice prince he’d always been accused of being. His beauty was almost ridiculous, really; even his silver hair glittered in the sunlight.

He turned his head when he heard her enter the room, pinning her with his golden gaze, his features set in his usual impassive expression. “Kagome,” he said, his tone even, neutral.

With a rush, it all returned, as if she hadn’t spent the night with another guy, or crying over this one. That same frustrated, needy ache returned with a vengeance, threatening to overwhelm her, turning her knees to jelly and constricting her breath in her chest. Logically, she knew – she _shouldn’t_ feel this way; she might not remember all of it, but she damn well knew she’d spent the better part of the previous evening exorcising personal demons.

But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered as she stood before him now. All that mattered was the truth – and maybe she was ready to hear it, _all_ of it.

Gathering every shred of nerve she possessed, she moved forward, coming to an abrupt halt at his side.

“What am I to you?” she inquired quietly, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

He inclined his head, looking up at her thoughtfully. “I believe you became my ex the moment you slept with my brother,” he replied.

His words sliced straight through her. “W-what are you talking about?” she murmured, her stomach tightening into a sickening knot.

“You were with Inuyasha last night, yes?”

She furrowed her brow. “Why do you think that?” she asked casually, worrying the hem of her skirt.

He handed her the paper from the top of the stack in his lap. “He told me,” he replied plainly, indicating the page she now held. A hint of wry touched his features. “I suppose he couldn’t resist gloating.”

Her hands became clammy as she glanced over the cryptic one-word email that Inuyasha had supposedly sent him that morning. “This doesn’t prove anything,” she contended, feeling puzzled as well as anxious.

A thicker stack of papers, this time encased in an olive-colored file folder, appeared in her line of vision. “Inuyasha Malliard is the bastard son of my father, the result of an illicit union with a Frenchwoman eighteen years ago,” Sesshoumaru informed her.

Kagome opened the folder, her heart beating rapidly as she glanced through the material – birth certificate, passport, letters and emails detailing Inuyasha’s entrance into the country, and old correspondence between his parents. “I don’t believe this,” she breathed, on the edge of tears for the second time that morning.

“There’s more,” Sesshoumaru murmured, drawing her attention once again. His mouth was set in a grim line as he eyed the information she held. “My father is positioning him to take over the company that was slated to be my inheritance – if not the entire enterprise – upon his retirement. He has taken many steps towards this goal, some of which I’m only now becoming privy to.” He handed her another set of papers. “Inuyasha has also put in for that position at your family’s company, probably in a bid to thwart me.”

Kagome’s mouth went dry as she glanced over the evidence – more emails, and a copy of Inuyasha’s partially filled-in application. “Why would you say that he’s only doing this to thwart you?” she choked out, too shocked to contemplate any of the rest of it.

“Because he’s applying everywhere that I am,” Sesshoumaru responded grimly. “It doesn’t matter that he’s too young, or too inexperienced, or lacks the education – he won’t seriously be considered for any of the other posts.” He raised his eyes to hers. “Except yours.”

Kagome felt her entire world crumbling around her. Her hands began to shake as Sesshoumaru added the last pieces to the stack she held before standing himself, crossing his arms over his chest. She stared at him, her breath heavy and raspy, a thin sheen of sweat beading on her forehead as she realized the full consequences of her actions.

_Oh, God._

“Can we save this?” she suddenly burst out. “Any of this?”

He frowned as he regarded her. “Is there anything left to save?”


	17. Broken (Interlude)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #10 – “I’m broken.”

**16\. Broken (Interlude)**

_The Kübler-Ross model describes, in five discrete stages, a process by which people deal with grief and tragedy […] after suffering a catastrophic personal loss._

**Stage 1: Denial  
6 April 2009, 09:30**

Sesshoumaru sighed, eyeing himself in the bathroom mirror. _Thank God it’s over_ , he thought to himself, splashing his face with cold water. _This has been the worst week of my life…and finally, it’s over._

He gathered his belongings and left the men’s room, heading down the hall to his thesis advisor’s office. He’d never been so grateful in his entire life to turn in a damn paper as he was with this one. It had sucked away the better part of the year, completely destroying his social life, but he kept telling himself that the end result would be worth the sacrifice. Slowly but surely, he was making progress towards his goal – in many ways, this was the opening salvo in his master plan.

Turning in this thesis would grant him a master’s degree. That degree, in turn, would translate into a job – mostly likely at a rival company to his father’s, which suited him just fine. His father was being an ass, striking him down at every turn, withholding the company that was rightfully his to inherit in the first place, hence the need to have a master plan at all. When he finally snagged the position he desired, then he could strike, brokering a hostile-if-necessary takeover of his father’s holdings.

 _It is my destiny_ , Sesshoumaru thought as he knocked on his advisor’s door before sliding it open. _It is my destiny to fight my father – and win. I would have it no other way._

His advisor nodded in acknowledgment of his presence and waved him in. Sesshoumaru walked over to the desk, sinking gracefully into the chair opposite this so-called expert of the field. Said expert hastily concluded his phone conversation, quirking an eyebrow as he took in his student’s slightly disheveled appearance. “You okay?” he murmured, settling back in his chair.

“I’m fine,” Sesshoumaru returned flatly, digging into his bag for his work. “Just glad to have this damn thing finished.”

His advisor chuckled. “That’s always the way,” he drawled, a small smile curving his lips as the hefty stack of papers landed on his desk. “Is this your final version?”

Sesshoumaru eyed his advisor carefully. “Unless you have further suggestions for revision,” he ground out. 

He watched as his advisor glanced through the manuscript he had spent the last day and a half single-mindedly slaving over, before lifting his gaze to meet his student’s. No doubt he was taking in the evidence of strain and stress that marked his features – tiny tell-tale lines around his eyes, the thin line of his mouth, the slight paleness of his cheeks – all signs he had noted himself in the bathroom moments earlier.

 _You’d better think twice about making me write this over_ , he threatened silently.

His advisor put the paper down on his desk. “And your internship applications?”

“Done,” Sesshoumaru replied, reaching into his bag for the thin sheaf. He smoothed his thumb over the staples, silently reassuring himself he had brought the entire batch, before handing them over.

“Mm _hmm_ ,” his advisor mumbled, his eyes lighting with rampant curiosity as he rifled through the pages. His gaze flickered back to Sesshoumaru when he came to the last one. “SHK, eh? How very ambitious of you.”

Sesshoumaru shrugged. “What’s the point in applying if you don’t aim for the best on the first round?”

“Considering your background, I can’t imagine you’ll be at the top of their want list,” his advisor mused.

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes as he studied him. “I relish such a challenge.”

“Words straight from your father’s mouth, no doubt,” his advisor said with a grin. “Speaking of which, are you planning to apply at your family’s company as well? Or do you not have to go through the formal process like the rest of the grunts?”

Sesshoumaru bristled, sitting up straighter in the chair and leveling an icy glare at his advisor. “No, I am not looking within my father’s company for a post-graduate position,” he informed him. “There is little to interest me there.” His hand fell to the strap of his bag beside him. “If we’re finished here?”

His advisor quirked another brow and reached for his calendar. “The only thing left is scheduling the day of defense for your thesis,” he murmured, flipping the pages. “The end of April okay for you?”

Sesshoumaru allow the quiet suggestion to roll through his mind. Application interviews started the first week in May, so it would be a load off his shoulders to have everything finished for his degree. Three weeks wasn’t much time to prepare…but then again, it wasn’t like he had much else going on in his life at the moment. “That’s fine,” he replied.

“Good,” his advisor pronounced, scrawling his name down for the twenty-ninth and handing him a reminder slip. “I’ll email you if there are issues with the paper, but I’m not anticipating any.”

Sesshoumaru’s hand closed around the paper. “Good,” he returned. “Neither am I.” 

He stood, looping the strap of his bag over his shoulder before bidding the man farewell and leaving. He ignored the sea of people that met him in the hallway, a nearby class having just let out, and pushed his way out of the building. He was halfway to his car before he realized he was outside, and his shoulders sagged in some version of relief.

_It’s done._

He climbed into the driver’s seat of his car and laid his arms on the steering wheel, resting his head against the sun-warmed leather as he waited for the others who were bustling about to leave, so he could avoid the tangle of traffic.

_It’s done._

A comfortable numbness settled in his chest. He always thought he’d feel ecstatic after turning in his thesis, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. After all, wasn’t this the hardest part, completing his education? He was more than qualified for any job he now deigned to apply for, and with his cool self-confidence, he’d never stared down an interview he couldn’t ace.

So what was this? Why did he not feel any better about things, now that his plan had finally been set into motion?

_Because of her…_

_Nonsense_ , he thought, straightening, shutting out the niggling little voice in the back of his mind. _That relationship ran its course, ending just as you knew it would_. He ground his teeth as he turned the ignition, a memory of that ugly confrontation assailing him. The roar of the engine brought him back to the present, and he glanced up into the rearview mirror as he prepared to leave. His hand froze as it found the gearshift, his eyes sweeping over the blanket that had been haphazardly draped over the backseat. A vision of the previous Halloween floated to the forefront of his mind, and a rush of protectiveness washed through him as he remembered – laying her almost unconscious body across the seat, covering her with that very same blanket, bringing her home after a disastrous party…setting into motion the chain of events that led him to this day, sitting out in the university parking lot, feeling melancholy on what should’ve been a triumphant occasion.

“Hmph,” he grunted, shaking his head to clear the memories. He maneuvered out of the space and set off, keeping pace with the inner running commentary. _She means nothing to you. It was an unfortunate dalliance that ended disastrously. An opportunity missed, yes, but do you want to be with someone who won’t trust you, who will take the word of your bastard half-brother over you, who will willingly believe the worst about you, who won’t even attempt to understand your motivations for the things you do – or don’t do? You gave her a chance, and she blew it. You tried to protect her, and she threw that away like so many petals on the wind. You can’t trust your heart to someone who’s so unsure of herself and of her place in your life._

He pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. _Don’t make such a big deal out of that ugly scene. Yeah, she cried when you told her who she was really dealing with, but was that really a surprise? The fact that you’re still able to live with her following all of that is a testament to the fleeting nature of the relationship._

He shrugged as he entered his apartment, instinctively locking the door behind himself before heading for his bedroom.

_If you were really in love with her, it would hurt. You feel nothing. You are around her constantly, trapped between the four walls of this tiny apartment with her, and you feel absolutely nothing._

He threw his bag on the bed and sank down at his desk, pushing his hands through his hair.

_It’s done._

He turned his attention to his computer, going through his mail and checking on a few of the places he’d applied for internships. Soon enough, his stomach was growling, demanding his attention, an instant reminder that he hadn’t had any breakfast. He’d been so focused on polishing the paper that he’d forgotten to eat…which was rather unlike him.

Now, as he made his way to the kitchen, he tried to focus on cataloguing his meager pantry. The last week had really blurred together in his mind, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to the shops. _Hmm…_

He stopped short at the juncture of the common room and the kitchen, his heart taking a painful beat. Kagome stood by the stove, looking very small and vulnerable, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at her tea kettle. He was caught by surprise when she suddenly turned to face him, as if she’d heard his approach – and his abrupt halt.

“Sesshoumaru,” she murmured, her tone surprised.

His name barely registered in his mind as he gazed at her, taking in her poorly guarded expression, fraught with anguish and despair. The look in her eyes alone was enough to cut straight through him, slicing through the welcome numbness, prodding at something buried deeper in his heart, his gut, his mind.

He swiftly turned, closing his eyes and clenching his fists as he went back to his room, hunger forgotten.

_It’s done._

~*~

**Stage 2: Anger  
1 April 2009, 15:45**  


She didn’t know who to be angrier at: Sesshoumaru, for withholding information from her; Inuyasha, for outright lying to her; or herself, for falling into their deadly web with such blissful ignorance.

Kagome burrowed into her mattress, curling into a tight ball, not caring that the sheets twisted uncomfortably around her legs in the process. She’d spent much of the last three days in bed, unable or unwilling to get up for much beyond immediate, necessary function. She had no motivation to even get dressed, much less go out and face the world – or her roommate.

Her ex.

Her love…

Her chest constricted and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears that threatened to rage forth for the umpteenth time. _Why did he keep it from me?_ she asked herself morosely. _He’s not an idiot! Couldn’t he see the consequences of that decision? Why didn’t he just tell me from the start what was going on?_

She wanted to hate him, to loathe him and spite him and have the higher ground to be righteously indignant at his treatment of her.

But she couldn’t.

At some level, this mess was all her fault.

Of that she was now painfully aware.

 _What if he had told you?_ she asked herself. _Can you honestly say you would’ve done everything the same? No. You saw what happened to your mother after your father died. You swore you’d never get yourself into that same sort of situation. If Sesshoumaru had been honest with you, upfront, about his intentions for your family’s company, you would’ve run screaming in the other direction._

So, in a way, she had come to understand the convoluted logic behind him keeping his mouth shut. Of course, that all hinged on the idea that he wanted to be with her for reasons related to _her_ instead of her personal stake in her family’s business, something she was very much doubting at the moment. He had been so cool, so calm, so collected the last time she’d seen him – he might as well have been a block of ice for all the emotion he shared during that ugly confrontation.

If the idea of breaking up with her bothered him, he didn’t show the first sign of it. 

But then, that was just par for the course, right? He’d never so much as even come close to confessing any feelings of love – or even regard – for her while they were together, and of course the lack of physical intimacy was what had led to the explosive end of their relationship in the first place.

Hell, he was probably over it by now – and she could be angry with him for that. How could he have such firm control over himself, effortlessly rebuilding those barriers she’d worked so hard to break down, while she dissolved into a blubbering, angry mess?

Even with all of that, however, she couldn’t blame him for the aftermath, for her own reaction to learning just who her friends truly were. No, for that – she could only blame herself.

The irony was bitter. She’d worked so hard to protect herself, to learn from her mother’s mistakes, that she didn’t see the noose until it was already around her neck. After her father died, his friends and enemies had come out in swarms to collect some piece of his business, some of them even stooping so low as to curry favor with her mother to get the best deal. Only her grandfather’s foresight had kept her mother from making a huge mistake while so vulnerable – even though she did eventually marry one of those competitors a few years later.

After witnessing the hell her mother had gone through, Kagome was determined to never experience it firsthand. Her relationships were frivolous at best: sometimes quick and painless, sometimes with a wisp of commitment, but she had never risked her heart. She moved in a social whirlwind, with countless acquaintances but few close friends. She’d dated frequently and had sex casually, and a breakup had never affected her like this one.

If she was truly, deeply honest with herself – and, after three days in bed with only her miserable thoughts for company, she was well there – she could admit that being in love had scared her. As much as she ached for him (God, _still_ ), she had never pressed the issue – she’d wanted his body, but had never demanded his love. Maybe some tiny part of her was afraid of finding herself in that same situation as her mother, giving away her heart only to be so callously used in return?

Instead, she’d acted like an idiot; a total, selfish bitch. Instead of addressing her issues with Sesshoumaru, she’d run off to Inuyasha for comfort, and had fallen headlong into the very trap she had always been so fearful of. She hated herself now for being so blind to it, after spending nearly five years looking over her shoulder for any and all signs of ulterior motives.

And she was angry at herself for so thoroughly misjudging Inuyasha. 

She didn’t know what to think of him anymore. He’d be so… _open_ …with her that she couldn’t believe it had all been a sham. Was he clever enough to feign _everything_ – his concern about his place in his family, his uncertainty about his future after being uprooted from his homeland, his fierce protectiveness and seemingly genuine affection for her? For it to have only been a thin façade that she couldn’t see through at all…?

No. It couldn’t be. He didn’t seem capable of such complete and utter ruthlessness, not even in his darkest moments of jealousy.

She’d read the files, so many times that the facts of his life were practically burned into her brain. He’d resisted coming to this country after his mother’s death, preferring instead to stay with his French grandparents, wanting nothing to do with the phantom father who hadn’t bothered to visit him during his childhood. What, exactly, had changed in that scenario that he was now here, apparently working under his father’s tutelage, abiding his every whim? 

It just didn’t sit right with her…

…not that she felt much sympathy for him now, not after playing his part to perfection in destroying her relationship.

~*~

**Stage 3: Bargaining  
6 April 2009, 11:32**  


“Come on, Kagome, talk to me,” pleaded the voice at the other end of the line.

“What do you want?” she sighed, already regretting even answering the phone.

“I’m worried about you,” Sango replied, her tone hesitant. “So’s Inuyasha.”

Kagome bit back a snort. _Oh, I’m sure he is_ , she thought darkly. _I hope he’s squirming with fear that I’ve discovered his little secret_. He’d been calling her on and off for the last two days, but she’d been tacitly ignoring him. Any texts he sent her were immediately erased, unread. The only reason she’d even answered her cell this time was because Sango’s number had popped up.

Maybe a little girl talk would be comforting for a change.

“Look,” Sango said, breaking into Kagome’s brooding thoughts, “I’m not sure what happened between you two, but I _do_ know that I haven’t seen you in almost a week, and that’s scary. Inuyasha told me you’re cutting classes, too, so I know _something_ ’s wrong.” She paused, before tentatively voicing her next thought. “If you aren’t willing to tell him, maybe you’ll tell me?”

Kagome rolled on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her room. It was true; after a few days of pure, unadulterated anger, she’d lain in bed feeling horribly drained and depressed, spending more time asleep than awake, as if she could escape from her misery simply by being unconscious. This wasn’t exactly the most fortuitous time of the semester to have a breakdown, what with final exams rolling up and all, but she found herself completely uncaring. There was only one person in the world she wished to see – and even though he was only separated from her by one thin wall, it felt like they were on completely opposite sides of the world.

If Sesshoumaru even noticed that she hadn’t been outside of her room or the bathroom in the last week, he didn’t deign to acknowledge it. And that hurt far more than it should.

“Kagome? Are you still there?”

She sighed. “Yeah, sorry.”

Sango was quiet for a moment. “Your silence scares me, Kagome,” she admitted softly. “What happened to that fun-loving and cheerful girl I met on New Year’s Eve?”

“She found her limits,” Kagome replied mournfully. “Even she can only stand having her heart stomped on so much before she breaks down and hides from the world.”

Another pause stretched between the girls before Sango spoke again. “I’m coming over,” she announced.

“ _What_?!” Kagome cried, sitting bolt upright in her bed. “ _Now_?!”

“Yes, _now_ ,” Sango replied. “I need to see for myself that you are really okay and not about to slit your wrists or something.”

“But – ” Kagome began, her mind whirring for an excuse to keep her at bay.

“But nothing,” Sango interrupted firmly. “I promise, Kagome, I only want to make sure you’re okay. I’m not doing this on anyone’s behalf but my own.”

“So you won’t mention any of this to Inuyasha?” Kagome asked warily. _I want to deal with him on my own…but not just yet. I won’t be making that impulsive mistake twice!_

“I won’t even tell Miroku,” Sango vowed.

“Okay,” Kagome relented, barely registering the sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “Give me an hour, all right?”

“Done,” Sango agreed. “See you then. And the first thing I’m going to do is give you a great big hug, so be prepared!”

That made Kagome crack a smile, her first in quite some time. “Thanks,” she murmured before hanging up. She put the phone on her bedside table and sighed, trying to find the motivation to actually get up, to take a shower, to get dressed. She sat quietly, listening for any signs of her roommate, but after five minutes, only silence met her ears.

She slipped across the hall and showered quickly, the warm water and comforting scents of her shampoo and body wash reviving her somewhat. Returning to her room, she threw open the curtains, allowing the afternoon sun to filter in as she picked around for something comfortable to wear.

 _This is good_ , she told herself, slipping into a pair of well-worn jeans and a long-sleeved, loose t-shirt. _Seeing Sango is good. She’s a girl; she’ll understand._

It had been a long time since Kagome had actually had a female friend to talk to; most of the girls in her social set didn’t want anything to do with her, viewing her as competition, at best. If only they realized she wanted no part of that never-ending drama…

 _I should make tea_ , she suddenly thought. _That will make me look like a functional human being who’s seen the light of day more than once in the last week_. Before she could change her mind, she charged into the kitchen, pulling down her kettle and rifling through her tea cabinet for something muted, yet cheerful.

 _Lemon, orange, passionfruit…_ She wrinkled her nose, reaching further back. _Chamomile, spiced apple, peppermint…_

The kettle was almost ready, just under the point of whistling, and Kagome gratefully stepped back, folding her arms over her chest as she eyed the swiftly heating water. Peppermint tea brought back memories of that winter afternoon, when he had fallen asleep on the common room sofa and she had kissed him for the first time.

 _Oh, God, what I wouldn’t give to go back to that point_ , she thought, a wave of sorrow washing over her. That little moment of time, when she’d first realized that she felt something more for him than idle lust, when she could still hold out hope that maybe one day, he’d feel the same way about her…

She turned suddenly, and there he was, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, as if he had been summoned by her thoughts. For a moment, she could only stare, biting her lip to hold the flood of emotion at bay. 

“Sesshoumaru,” she said, almost helplessly, unable to peel her eyes away. 

_Please…_

He merely gazed back at her, his expression carefully blank. Time seemed to stand still as they regarded each other. Her heart took a painful beat as she silently pleaded with him to respond, to break through the sudden haze of tension that filled the room.

Instead, he turned away, closing his eyes and clenching his fists, leaving without a word.

Something shifted in her then, and suddenly she couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over her cheeks. Mechanically, she reached back to turn off the stove, her hand shaking terribly.

 _I thought I was past this part_ , she thought mournfully, staring at the steaming kettle. _I thought I’d cried myself dry already._

_God, if only he’d said something…_

The insistent buzzing of the doorbell brought her back to the present. She took a deep breath, but found it didn’t really help ease the frustrated, needy longing that had blossomed from the very core of her being.

The bell rang again, followed by a short, firm knock.

Kagome slowly made her way down the foyer, feeling as if she was moving through mud, reaching for the lock as the knocking grew more insistent. She opened the door and fell into Sango’s arms, clutching at her like a lifeline, an anchor in a raging sea.

“Oh my God,” Sango breathed, catching her friend easily and pulling her close. “Oh, Kagome, what’s happened to you?”

~*~

**Stage 4: Depression  
20 April 2009, 10:00**  


_“You have to take things one day at a time,” Sango advised her. “Get through the first day, then the next, and slowly things will get better.”_

Kagome sniffled, brushing away an errant tear as she sat up in her bed. It had been almost two weeks since that day, when Sango had proven just what a wonderful, generous, and valuable friend she could be. After letting her cry on the stoop, she’d led Kagome into the kitchen and prepared a pot of very strong Earl Grey tea.

They then proceeded to have it out – _all_ of it – over the course of that afternoon and much of the evening.

Sango had listened carefully, trying to help her friend navigate through the story in the midst of her overwhelming emotions. Somehow, relating the entire, sprawling mess as best she could to another person had helped her gain more perspective on the whole matter; it certainly helped that Sango hadn’t bothered trying to defend Inuyasha for his actions, even though she had been friends with him for much longer.

_“I don’t understand it, either,” she said, furrowing her brow. “That just doesn’t jibe with the Inuyasha I know.” She shrugged, giving Kagome’s hand a reassuring pat. “But I can understand why you don’t want to speak with him, much less see him right now. I’ll tell him to back off.”_

_“Thanks,” Kagome murmured, squeezing Sango’s hand gratefully._

_“You know what else I don’t understand?” Sango mused. “How can you stand living here with Sesshoumaru after all this?”_

_Kagome shrugged. “That’s the funny thing, really. This is his apartment; I’m technically subletting half of it. But he’s hardly ever around anymore, at least that I can tell.” She looked down at her hands. “I hate that he’s avoiding me.”_

_“Yeah, that is pretty weird,” Sango remarked in response. “Like, he’s letting you have run of the place, instead of kicking you out. I mean, could you say you would’ve done the same, in his place? I know I wouldn’t – if Miroku ever pissed me off that badly, I’d kick his ass to the curb!”_

_Kagome gave a small smile. “Yeah, same here.”_

It was niggling little thoughts like those that had kept her from absolutely wallowing in despair. She finally found the strength to face the world a few days after that conversation. She’d gone back to her classes after missing them for a week, grateful as well that Inuyasha gave her a wide, silent berth. Whatever Sango said to him must’ve been powerful, for he even stopped calling and texting incessantly.

It wasn’t easy; she still felt mostly numb when she was at home. She spent most of her time in her room, if not in her bed, still trying to escape through sleep. Her schoolwork barely held her attention; not even the oncoming wave of stress and anxiety that always accompanied finals could fully pierce the veil of depression.

But each day, it got a little easier. From the depths of that loneliness and insecurity arose a hidden strength of resolve, one she had long ago feared lost.

 _Have you really forgotten your New Year’s resolution so easily?_ she reminded herself, putting her feet on the floor and pushing up from the bed. _It’s barely been five months, and you’re ready to give up?_

She slipped into her bathrobe and plucked her towel from the hook on the wall. _Nobody ever said it would be easy. If it was easy, it wouldn’t have been a resolution – something to work on, get better with._

She indulged in a long, leisurely shower, relishing the feel of the warm water in her hair, on her back, washing away the darkness of the night. She was almost back into her old routine, when getting out of bed in the morning and getting dressed didn’t feel like monumental personal achievements.

It was small, but it was a start.

She returned to her room, changing into fresh, clean clothes, and gazed out of her window as she brushed her hair, her eyes sweeping over the grassy expanse behind her building, where wildflowers were beginning to bloom. She smiled slightly as the breeze gently shifted through the plants, lifting their petals high as if in greeting to her. The longer days, filled with sunlight and warmth, had also helped her general mood.

As was the fact that she was still there, able to stand by this window and look out on this scene.

 _He’s let you stay here_ , she reminded herself. _He hasn’t antagonized you, or left passive-aggressive notes about your annoying habits, or reported your tendency to feed the stray cats that hang around here to the landlord. He’s allowed you to stay, and that means…he doesn’t loathe you. Maybe he doesn’t love you or need you or want you, but he doesn’t hate you, either._

She rested her forehead against the sun-warmed glass, closing her eyes and breathing a small sigh.

It was small, but it was a start.

_“If you love something, you have to set it free,” Sango advised her. “If it’s really meant to be, it will come back to you, and happen in its own time, of its own accord.”_

_“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Kagome snorted. “I mean, no offense – but you’ve always struck me as someone way too practical to rely on such romantic clichés.”_

_Sango grinned, a slight blush burnishing her cheeks. “You’re right,” she laughed. “I guess this is what I get for hanging around my boyfriend so much. Miroku’s a double major in religious studies and psychology.”_

_Kagome gave her a startled look upon that revelation. “That’s an odd combination,” she remarked._

_Sango shook her head. “Odd,” she agreed, “but at the same time – strangely comforting.”_

Kagome straightened, giving herself a firm shake. She left her room again, this time heading for the kitchen and some morning sustenance. Of all the advice offered to her on that distant day, this was probably the hardest piece to take. Even after almost a month, her love for Sesshoumaru hadn’t faded, only strengthened; her needs hadn’t abated, only worsened; her longing hadn’t diminished, it only became more fortified.

She’d never felt this way before about a man: like all the pain and suffering would be worth it in the end, like all the agony she’d gone through the first time around had been worth what little closeness she’d won (breaking through his self-imposed barriers) and the fleeting moments they’d shared. She wanted to push – to force the issue, to cling to those memories with all her might, to wear him down and have him again – but all the same, she realized that wasn’t the way. When pushed, he turned away; when forced, he shut down; when clung to, he withdrew; when worn down, he was miserable and aloof.

More than anything, she wanted him to be happy.

And if that meant setting him free, relieving him of the obligations that accompanied her love…

 _You won’t lose him forever_ , she reminded herself, settling at the table with her favorite cup as she waited for her water to heat. _He hasn’t completely turned away. You’ve been through too much together._

The thought was oddly comforting.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to lift her spirits and help her face the day.

~*~

**Stage 5: Acceptance  
29 April 2009, 07:15**  


Sesshoumaru sighed, wiping the steam away from the bathroom mirror. _Focus_ , he commanded himself as he filled his toothbrush. _You’re one step closer. You know this material, and you will ace this – as long as you stay awake._

The last three weeks had passed by in a complete blur. He’d spent most of his time at the library, rereading his sources, padding out a very thorough, thoughtful presentation, making sure he had all corners of his thesis defense covered. Not that there was any rest for the weary – he still had finals to get through, and then came the long rounds of application interviews. In many ways, this defense would be a trial run for the next few weeks, a chance to practice being at the top of his professional game.

He finished up quickly in the bathroom, striding with purpose back to his own room, the opening lines of his oral arguments running through his mind as he dressed and groomed. He then busied himself with his notes, making sure they were in pristine order before packing everything into his bag and checking, one last time, that everything was in place, and he hadn’t forgotten anything important.

If his father had taught him anything, it was that perfection was in the details.

He grabbed his coat and bag and headed for the kitchen, also fully aware that he needed to eat before facing down the thesis panel. His advisor was hardly the only hardass in the department; his entire committee would be champing at the bit to have a go at him. It was a given that he’d face even tougher questions than his classmates; it just came along with the territory of the Taisho name and reputation. There was something in it for them, as well, in awarding him this degree – notoriety was very much a two-way street.

“Good morning.”

The soft, lilting voice shattered through his thoughts, bringing him up short. He glanced over at the kitchen table though he was already halfway to the cabinets, utterly shocked to see his roommate sitting there. He swallowed convulsively, his hands tightening around the strap of his bag. He’d been studiously avoiding her for the last few weeks, telling himself it was for his own good, to concentrate on his defense and the rest of his academic work…but as his eyes swept over her small yet calm form, he had to admit to himself that there was more to it than that.

“Good morning,” he returned, turning away, still intent on making himself a very quick breakfast.

“Would you join me for some tea?” she asked quietly. “Please?”

 _Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea!_ screamed his inner voice. _Concentrate! Focus! Thesis defense, remember? In exactly two hours?_

“Fine,” he replied, schooling his features into an impassive expression before turning back and joining her at the table. He studied the fine grain of the wooden tabletop as she made his cup, silently preparing himself for another onslaught of emotion, as had happened the last time they were in the same room together for more than five minutes.

Instead, she surprised him, merely leaning back in her seat and turning her gaze to the window, silently sipping from her own steaming mug.

He furrowed his brow slightly, but relaxed his guard and reached for his cup, encasing its warmth in his hands.

“You’re certainly dressed up today,” she said after a long moment, her gaze still averted to the window. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Something important going on?”

His heart beat heavily in his chest as he watched her, his eyes moving away from her mouth to trace the sweep of her hair over her shoulders. “My thesis defense is in a few hours,” he replied softly.

“Wow, already?” she mused, her voice turning hollow, her expression saddening a bit – no doubt she was remembering the last time they’d discussed his thesis, in quiet, teasing tones between kisses in the basement of the university library. His stomach clenched as the memory of that night floated unbidden into his mind as well – _“I just need a few more hours here, I promise. Then I’m all yours.”_

 _Fuck_ , he realized, his grip tightening around his cup. _I still am._

He hadn’t wanted to admit it before, but it was only becoming more painfully obvious with each passing second: 

He’d spent the last month lying to himself.

He’d thought he was over her. He’d thought that he was past this. He’d thought that if he focused single-mindedly on the master plan he’d so carefully crafted, funneling all of his anger and aggression into elaborate schemes for getting back at his father and brother, that he could completely ignore the fact that she was still around, hovering in the periphery of his life.

Yet, if that was the case, then why did he feel like it was taking every fiber of his being to _not_ reach out for her in this moment, to curl her close and breathe in her wonderful scent and find solace in her lavishly unrestrained embrace?

“Good luck,” she said, abruptly bringing him back to reality as she turned to face him, a small but genuine smile curving her lips. “Not that you’ll need it, of course.”

“Thanks,” he replied from behind his cup. The lemon tea was quite stringent, but not enough to clear the sudden haze of longing and regret that clouded his mind.

 _What’s done is done_ , he told himself, taking a long sip. _Accept it and move on. She isn’t the one._

“Listen, Sesshoumaru,” she began, before taking a deep breath. “I just wanted to say – I understand.”

He lifted an eyebrow as he regarded her. “Oh?”

She nodded, almost sheepishly. “I’ve had a lot of time to think lately,” she continued softly, “and I understand why you’re applying for that position in my family’s company. I just wanted to tell you that I won’t stand in your way.” She lifted her eyes to his, latching onto his gaze. “But I won’t help you, either.”

He shifted his hands into his lap, clenching them into tight fists in order to stay the urge to reach for her. “I never wanted you to,” he replied smoothly. “I never had any intention of using you.” He shrugged. “Whether you believe me or not, I – ” 

“I do,” she broke in, her gaze searing into his, leaving him without a doubt that she spoke the truth.

His nails dug into his palms.

“That’s why I hope – we can still be friends?”

He was caught off guard by the uncertainty in her voice. “Of course,” he assured her with a small smile. “After all, we have to find some way to live together, right?”

She granted him a true smile then, wide and bright and full of achingly sweet relief. “Right,” she returned, sitting up in her chair.

They gazed at each other for a long, silent moment.

“Let me make you something to eat,” Kagome offered abruptly, standing up. “You need more than just tea before facing the firing squad.”

Before he realized what he was doing, he swiftly reached out, taking her wrist as she turned to walk away. A jolt of heat shot down the length of his arm, scorching every nerve ending along the way, and suddenly he felt more alive than he had in months.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Her expression was unreadable as she looked at him. “Well, what are friends for?” she replied.

 _Right_ , he thought as he let her go, watching her as she fluttered around their small kitchen. _Friends._

It was only when he had arrived on campus an hour later, two steps away from the building that would prove vital in his very near future, that he realized that the weight had finally lifted from his shoulders. He felt triumphant, free – and relieved.

“You’ve got this,” he assured himself as he pushed through the double glass doors without looking back.


	18. Contrition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #28 – _(Author’s Choice)_ – “Stop playing games with me.”

**17\. Contrition**

Kagome heaved a sigh of relief as she threw herself down on the blanket-covered ground. “Thank goodness that’s over,” she groaned dramatically to Sango, who gave her an indulgent smile and shake of the head in return. Kagome rolled onto her back, stretching out like a lazy cat in the afternoon sun. “Why does finals week have to coincide with the most beautiful weather we’ve had in ages?”

Sango glanced at her over the rim of her sunglasses before turning her attention back to her phone. “Think of it as nature’s warped sense of humor,” she drawled.

Kagome shrugged, reaching into her bag for her own pair of shades. The girls were ensconced in a small park that adjoined the university’s campus, sharing their sun-dappled afternoon with most of their classmates. The sky was cloudless and blue above them, the breeze warm and soft as it stirred through their hair. It was a perfect early May Friday – and the end of the long and arduous week of finals.

“How’d you do?” Sango inquired, flipping her phone open as she received another text message.

Kagome groaned again, covering her face with her hands. “All I can say is, thank God it was the microeconomics of business – a class I could pass in my sleep!” She paused, peeking between her fingers to ascertain whether her friend was paying attention. 

Sango gazed down at her with a wry smile, as if she knew what was coming next. 

“Which I might as well have been doing,” Kagome continued, somewhat melodramatically, “considering my mind has been otherwise occupied lately…”

Sango gave her friend’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. “Kagome – ”

“I know, I know,” Kagome cut in, her playful expression falling as she pushed her sunglasses up the slope of her nose. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen again, in its own time,” she said, saving Sango the trouble of repeating the platitude for the umpteenth time. “I guess…” She sighed. “I guess I just wish I _knew_ if it was meant to be…”

She bit her lip as an unexpected wave of tears prickled behind her eyes. _Pull yourself together, girl_ , she reprimanded herself. _It’s not so bad as that, and you know it. This is just exam fatigue, that’s all._

Still…

It had been hard, being so close and yet, so far from the one she loved – sharing an apartment and a somewhat tenuous friendship with him, when she wanted – no, _needed_ – so much more. Grasping at the promise of that friendship had brought her out of the depths of her despair, but it had also fueled her love for him, perhaps dangerously so. She cherished their fleeting moments together: sharing a quick cup of tea in the morning; bumping into each other in the hallway; sharing space in the common room to cram for their exams. More than once of late she’d found herself staring at him, indulging her heart’s desire, longing for the touch she’d once known.

Being around him wasn’t torturous, as she might’ve feared (or expected). Instead, they shared an unusual sort of camaraderie, tacit yet supportive, as if they were still feeling out the boundaries of their freshly repaired friendship. More than anything, she’d realized, she truly wanted him to be happy, and if that meant settling for a platonic relationship, then so be it. She would not push – after all, the last time she’d forced him to show his hand, she’d found herself ill-prepared for the consequences of her actions.

That didn’t stop her from dreaming, however. They had been through so much already – a little piece of her would always hold out hope that they could truly find their way back to each other. After all, if it was meant to be…

“So, that was your last exam, right?” Sango chirped, breaking into her friend’s heavy thoughts.

“Mmm,” Kagome mumbled, closing her eyes and shifting on the blanket, positioning herself for optimal sun exposure. She’d love nothing more than to dream the afternoon away, maybe pick up where she’d left off that morning – a sensual summery getaway with the object of her affection to someplace terribly romantic, holding hands in the park, kissing in the rain, making love by the fire – from which she had been so rudely awakened by her alarm clock.

“Good,” Sango replied, her fingers flying over the keypad of her phone. She made a noise of satisfaction a few moments later, which caused Kagome to crack open an eye.

She regarded her friend warily. “Why did you ask?”

Sango waved her hand dismissively as she typed out a response. “I just wanted to be sure,” she hedged, hitting the send button with a flourish and glancing up, as if searching for someone.

A small knot began to form in Kagome’s stomach as she sat up. “Sango? What’s going on?”

Sango shot her a pointed look before lifting her chin, drawing Kagome’s gaze across the grassy knoll. Her heart plummeted to the lower reaches of her stomach when she realized that Miroku and Inuyasha were headed towards them, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

“Sango!” Kagome hissed, pulling off her shades. “I told you, I don’t want to see him!”

Sango gave her a pleading look. “Please, Kagome, just talk to him, okay? It’s been hell on earth trying to keep him at bay these last few weeks.” She paused, glancing down into her lap. “Besides, I think it would do you both a world of good to get this out in the open and settled, once and for all.”

“But Sango,” Kagome argued, “after what he did to me, how can you – ”

Sango clapped her hand on Kagome’s arm. “Please?” she asked quietly. “You’re both my friends, and I hate seeing either of you in such pain.” Her eyes met Kagome’s in a measured, if determined, gaze. “If you won’t do it for your own peace of mind, then would you do it for mine?”

Before she could respond, Miroku and Inuyasha arrived at their blanket. Sango scrambled to her feet, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek and taking his arm. “I’ll trade you,” she offered with a smile.

“Hmm, I’ll take you up on that,” Miroku replied coyly, giving his companion a little push forward while returning his girlfriend’s kiss at the same time.

Kagome quickly turned away from the sweet scene, shoving her sunglasses back into place over her eyes. She had no desire to see Inuyasha, that was for sure, but she also didn’t care to witness another couple being so openly affectionate.

Some wounds were still too raw.

“We’re going for lunch,” Sango announced, reaching for her bag. “You two stay and have a nice chat, okay?”

Kagome shot her a murderous look, mercifully hidden behind the tinted shades, as the pair strolled off, Miroku’s arm hooked loosely around Sango’s waist.

Inuyasha settled himself on the blanket not far from Kagome. She turned away from him, pointedly ignoring him as she stared out over the expanse of the park. She wasn’t sure what she felt – a mixture of emotions, anger and sorrow and panic, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to him since unexpectedly waking up in his bed over a month ago, and wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to start now.

“So are you ever going to talk to me again?” Inuyasha finally asked.

Kagome glanced at him. He was sitting agura-style, picking at the grass at the edge of the blanket, but his posture was quite stiff, his back ramrod straight as he also gazed out over the middle distance, his eyes shielded from hers by dark sunglasses. The set of his shoulders and the thin line of his mouth betrayed the nervousness and insecurity he hid under the gruff tone of his voice.

“Should I?” she replied quietly.

He turned to face her then, peeling his sunglasses from his face. His warm brown eyes were intense as they met hers in a silent, affirmative plea.

Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach as she held his gaze. God, but she _hated_ confrontation. “I know what you did,” she informed him flatly, working hard to keep her tone firm and even. “I know who you are.”

He furrowed his brow, his expression turning puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

Kagome’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “I know you’re Sesshoumaru’s brother,” she spat with an exasperated sigh. “I know you were only using me in some sort of twisted game to get back at him.”

Before she could place him, Inuyasha shot across the small space that separated them, his mouth meeting hers with such hunger and urgency that she couldn’t help but respond to it, melting into the sudden, intimate touch under the heat of his kiss. His hand was warm against her cheek, his fingers curling into the nape of her neck as he pulled away. “Are you so sure about that?” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

Kagome’s head was spinning as she drew her breath. “Inuyasha,” she managed, her tone pleading, “stop playing games with me.”

He kissed her again, gently this time, his lips brushing softly against hers. “I’m not playing,” he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I want you.”

She seized the opportunity to push him away. “Why?” she demanded of him. “To spite Sesshoumaru? I saw the email you sent him after we slept together.”

His gaze smoldered as it lingered on hers. “I’ve always wanted you, Kagome,” he replied. “From the first moment that I laid eyes on you, last fall. Everything I’ve done since is because of that – no other reason.”

“Does that include dumping me with all the others after that Halloween party?” she asked warily, dodging another caress as he reached for her again.

He looked hurt as his hand fell away from its intended destination. “I told you,” he returned, “I was called away from school last November.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she shot back sharply. “I know all about you. Sesshoumaru showed me your file.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Kagome,” he argued, his brows knitting together. “I don’t know what Sesshoumaru showed you, but he’s too paranoid for his own good sometimes. My interest in you has absolutely nothing to do with him.”

Kagome gave him a disbelieving look. “And threatening to kick his ass on numerous occasions was what, a joke?”

Her heart stopped at the searing gaze he sent back. “I was only trying to protect you,” he replied, the hint of a growl edging into his voice. “He’s been nothing but a monumental jackass to me in what few dealings I’ve had with him, and I didn’t want you to be hurt by him as well.” Tentatively, he took her hand in his. “I care too much for you to let that happen.”

“Inuyasha…” Kagome found herself at a loss for words. He sounded so sincere – and she wanted so badly to believe him. She knew that Sesshoumaru resented him – _hated_ him, even – but Inuyasha had been nothing but kind to her, there for her when she needed him most, and always passionate in her defense. He’d given her friends at a time when everyone else had shunned her, not the least of whom was himself. Even if his reasons didn’t necessarily justify his actions, she had little doubt that he cared for her as much as he claimed.

“You’re the first good person I’ve met since…” He paused, swallowing convulsively as he traced the lines of her fingers. “…since I’ve moved here. You’ve made coming here, and living here, a pleasurable experience, when it had been nothing but a nightmare since my mother’s death.”

 _Oh, God_ , she thought, her heart flooding with sympathy for him as the details of his past emerged from the haze of her memory: how he had only recently come to this country after growing up under his mother’s care in France; of the battle his father had waged to separate him from his maternal grandparents upon her death. She had no doubt that Inuyasha himself had fought tooth and nail the idea of moving halfway around the world to live with the man who had abandoned him for most of his life, if his current demeanor was anything to go by. And, in truth, it just made her all the more curious about his relationship with his father. She already knew of Sesshoumaru’s tenuous connection to their father – was it possible that Inuyasha somehow fared even worse?

Or was this all some sort of elaborate story he’d conjured up in order to garner her sympathy and trust once more? After all, he had played a decisive role in destroying her relationship with his brother, and he had relished it – well, what she could remember of it. A blush rose to her cheeks as she recalled that drunken night.

 _So what do I do now?_ she asked herself, gazing down at their joined hands. _Can I trust that he’s telling me the truth this time? Or am I nothing but a pawn in some twisted scheme of his?_

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said softly, lacing his fingers through hers.

She glanced up, only to find his face mere inches from hers. “Inuyasha,” she sighed, backing away from his advances, “I’m not ready to be in a relationship with someone else right now.”

A look of understanding dawned across his features. “So you _have_ given it some thought, what I asked you last time we were together,” he murmured. He let her go, folding his hands together in his lap. “I’m not going to force you, Kagome. If friendship is all you can offer me…well, then, that’s all I can ask of you,” he vowed. “So please, can we be friends again?”

Kagome’s heart skipped a beat as she looked him directly in the eye, finding nothing but a sincere plea lurking in his gaze. He was hurt, yes, resigned to the idea of merely being her friend, but she saw no malice there.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel suspicious. “Will you stop using me to antagonize your brother?” she hedged.

“Kagome – ” he started, before squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. “Of course. For you, I’d do anything.”

She eyed him for another long moment. “Okay,” she finally relented. “We can be friends again.”

Inuyasha’s expression melted into a relieved smile. “Great,” he replied. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

Kagome granted him a small smile in return. “I’m really happy to say it,” she admitted, somewhat sheepishly. “You were the closest thing I had to a best friend for the last few months.”

Inuyasha quirked a brow, his expression stilling. “And then?”

Kagome grinned, pressing herself to her feet. “And then I met Sango,” she replied with a laugh.

He made a big show of rolling his eyes as he stood. “I see how it is,” he joked, stepping off the blanket. “One wrong move, and I’m out in the cold.”

 _You have no idea_ , Kagome thought as she gathered her belongings and stuffed them in her bag. _Don’t think I’ll ever be so naïve and stupid when it comes to our friendship again._

“How about we grab some lunch?” Inuyasha proposed, breaking into her wary thoughts. “My treat?”

Kagome considered the invitation as she picked up Sango’s blanket and shook it out. “Okay,” she finally agreed, holding up the blanket. “But only if you help me fold this up.”

Inuyasha grasped the ends opposite her. “It would be my pleasure,” he murmured in reply.


	19. Audacity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #05 – “You can be like me.”

**18\. Audacity**

Sesshoumaru drew a deep breath and steeled his spine as he eyed the intricately carved oak door before him. It had already been a very busy week, with three out of his five internship interviews scheduled; thus, he didn’t appreciate being suddenly summoned to his father’s office in the midst of it all.

He pushed open the door, nodding once to his father’s secretary as he approached her desk. “Is he in there?” he asked, unable to keep the annoyance completely out of his voice.

“Hello, Sesshoumaru,” she replied pleasantly, completely unruffled by his gruff tone of voice. “Your father is on a conference call, but I’ll let him know that you’re here.”

“Thanks,” he grunted, turning on his heel and surveyed his surroundings. The little waiting area beyond his father’s sanctum sanctorum was completely deserted, so he lowered himself in the far corner seat and kicked up his heels. _Of course he’d make me wait_ , he groused silently, resisting the urge to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar. He’d come straight from his third interview to his family’s business headquarters in a bid for punctuality, but he should’ve known that he’d end up waiting anyway.

He sighed. He’d given some serious thought to just “losing” the message about the meeting and going straight home, but he realized that such resistance was futile – ignoring his father meant incurring even more of his wrath than usual, and he just didn’t have the time or energy to put up with that right now. Besides, he had to admit, he was curious to know what his father wanted, so seemingly out of the blue. He was not one to call impulsive, secret meetings – with no warning – in the middle of a workweek.

He glanced up at the ceiling. At least the internship application rounds were going well. He’d scored interviews at all five places he’d applied, and had aced the first three, hands down. Offers were on the table at each one, but there was only one position he really desired – and his SHK interview would be the last of the lot, scheduled for the following Monday afternoon. That corporation was the only one with an internal mergers department, and it offered the best opportunity for a home base from which to launch his master career plan. His father had been less than willing to play fair with his inheritance, so he was readying himself taking matters into his own hands, if necessary.

Not that he put much stock into his father’s continual threats to disinherit him – such bullying came along with the territory of being such a monumental disappointment in his father’s eyes. Not once had he been able to command a look of respect from the man, and it made his blood boil. He was no slouch; he had worked damn hard to position himself where he was today. 

But it just wasn’t enough to please his father.

The outer office door opened once more, and Sesshoumaru looked up, the knot of dread in his stomach tightening as he recognized the newcomer.

Inuyasha glided over to the secretary. “Good afternoon, Akiko,” he said smoothly, resting the heel of his hand on the edge of her desk. “Mr. Taisho requested to see me?”

She smiled at him. “Ah, yes, Mr. Malliard,” she replied. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thanks,” he returned, turning to scope out the small reception area. Sesshoumaru’s attention was once again on the ceiling, but he wasn’t surprised in the least when his brother chose to sit two seats away from him.

Sesshoumaru spared a glance at the secretary, making sure she was otherwise occupied before turning his attention to Inuyasha. “What are _you_ doing here?” he hissed, not bothering to disguise the contempt in his voice.

Inuyasha shrugged, looking over the selection of dated reading material on the side table next to him. “He’s _my_ father too, you know,” he responded in a hushed voice. “I have just as much right to see him here as you do.”

Sesshoumaru regarded him skeptically as Inuyasha picked up a business journal and began to flip through it. His mind was working overtime to process this new wrinkle of information, and he did not like the conclusions he was drawing. It was curious enough that his father had called _him_ in for a meeting, instead of just phoning or sending an obnoxiously coded email, as was his wont…

…but _both_ of them? At the _same_ meeting? At his _office_?

 _Very_ intriguing. 

“Listen, Sesshoumaru,” Inuyasha began, breaking into his thoughts, “I just wanted to say – ”

“Don’t even try it,” Sesshoumaru interrupted, his tone on the edge of a growl. “I don’t know what you said to Kagome to get her to forgive you, but I’m not buying it.”

Inuyasha glowered at him. “I only told her what she wanted to hear,” he shot back defensively, before checking himself. He cleared his throat, turning his attention to the journal once more. “Besides, what do you care? She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

Sesshoumaru scowled at his brother. _What do I care?_ he repeated silently. _She’s still my friend, and I still care about her, and I don’t appreciate you worming your way back into her good graces four days before the internship interviews_. He bit back the words, however, instead settling back in his seat with feigned disinterest. “She’s not _your_ girlfriend, either,” he shrugged, “so I guess your little plan didn’t go quite as expected.”

Inuyasha snorted. “At least I slept with her,” he muttered under his breath.

Sesshoumaru cut him a murderous glance from the side of his eye, but before he could act on his intentions, the secretary walked over to them.

“Sesshoumaru? Mr. Malliard? Mr. Taisho will see you now.”

“Thanks,” Inuyasha said brightly, tossing the journal back on the side table as he stood. Sesshoumaru fought the urge to roll his eyes as he followed suit, brushing past the two of them as his father’s office door opened.

He met his father’s impassive expression with one of his own, nodding silently in greeting as he went into the office. Tension coiled in his abdomen as he settled himself into one of the two chairs in front of his father’s desk, his nerves rankling as he listened to his father greet his brother with something akin to professional warmth. Inuyasha smirked at Sesshoumaru as he sat down on his left.

“Thanks, Akiko,” his father said. “Be a doll, and hold my calls? I don’t want to be interrupted during this meeting.”

 _Oh really?_ Sesshoumaru thought, eyeing the piles of papers littering the desk in front of him, as his father closed and locked the door. A wave of apprehension rolled over him, and he cast a surreptitious glance Inuyasha’s way, trying to gauge if he was the only one in the room who had no idea what this meeting was about. His brother was slumped in his seat, looking utterly bored as he examined his fingernails, but Sesshoumaru noticed a certain stiffness in the lines of his body. 

_So even he doesn’t know what’s really going on_ , Sesshoumaru surmised, faintly surprised at how much that thought assured him. He turned his attention back to his father, who had seated himself behind the desk and was shuffling through some papers.

“So, Sesshoumaru, are you going to tell me why you aren’t applying to do your post-grad internship here?” his father asked without preamble.

Sesshoumaru merely gazed back at him, almost insulted that his father expected him to rise to such obvious bait. “Are you going to tell me why you invited _him_ to this meeting?” he replied tersely, jutting his thumb in Inuyasha’s direction.

His father raised an imperious brow, holding his elder son’s gaze. They scrutinized each other for a long moment before he deigned to speak again. “As a matter of fact, I am,” he began, picking up a thick stack of papers and standing them on end. “You don’t need to complete an internship, Sesshoumaru. I’ve spoken with your advisor, and he said this would be a more than adequate substitute for the credit.”

Sesshoumaru’s heart began to thud heavily in his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m handing you the reigns of Taisho Industrial,” his father announced, letting the paperwork land heavily on the desk in front of Sesshoumaru. “Today.”

Twin expressions of shock graced the faces of his sons. “ _What_?!” Inuyasha sputtered, leaning forward in his chair.

Sesshoumaru, for his part, was also reeling – internally. Taisho Enterprises was an umbrella corporation, made up of many other holdings companies. Taisho Industrial was the oldest, largest, and most powerful of that portfolio, with stakes in private industry as well as government projects.

It was also the company he had been promised as part of his inheritance, the one he had desired to conquer first, the one at the center of his carefully crafted hostile takeover plans.

So why was his father suddenly _giving_ it to him, after threatening to disinherit him completely?!

He narrowed his eyes as he met his father’s triumphant gaze, folding his hands into his lap as he sat up straighter. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Hideki Financial Group, would it?” he asked carefully, striving to keep his tone calm and even.

His father’s eyes gleamed and a small smile curved his lips. “However did you guess?” he murmured in reply, steepling his hands as he studied his elder son thoughtfully.

Inuyasha fought to collect himself, swinging his suspicious gaze between his father and his brother. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his frustration and ignorance clear in his voice.

Sesshoumaru kept his gaze steady on his father’s. “Hideki Financial Group is an investment company,” he explained. “It’s also an ETF, traded on the stock market.” _They’ve also been sucking up shares in quite a few small-fry companies_ , he added silently to himself. He’d had to research the company in preparation for his internship interviews, as two of them required additional knowledge of ETFs and mutual fund management as part of the position. Hideki was a relative newcomer to the scene, barely making waves, and he’d have thought it far below his father’s interest level, especially considering the effort he was putting into acquiring his biggest business rival.

 _But obviously not_ , Sesshoumaru concluded. _I wonder what they’ve been dealing in, to get his attention._

“Indeed,” his father continued, “and Hideki contains two things Taisho Enterprises currently lacks: an investment bank, and serious play on the stock market.” He’d never wanted to offer more than was necessary of his company to the public, lest he also invite unwanted financial or ethical scrutiny; thus, Taisho Enterprises had only a nominal slot on the national index. “Both features make it a very attractive acquisition, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Hmph,” Sesshoumaru grunted, the gears of his mind already turning as he attempted to fit the pieces of the conversation together in order to understand what his father was driving at. _It doesn’t make sense_ , he thought, _giving up Taisho Industrial for Hideki – the two are hardly of comparable standing…so that means he’s not trying to sell off or give away Industrial in order to acquire Hideki – so what’s the link? Unless –_

“But what does that have to do with giving _him_ Taisho Industrial?” Inuyasha queried, somewhat indignantly.

Amazingly, his father granted him a patient expression. “It’s against the law to pursue two major acquisitions at once,” he explained. “You can only put forth paperwork for one at a time. If I put Taisho Industrial in Sesshoumaru’s name, it will effectively make it a separate legal entity from the rest of Taisho Enterprises. That way, I can pursue both avenues at once – making the public offer on SHK under the Enterprises name, while bidding on Hideki under the Industrial name.”

“It’s a win-win situation,” he continued, shifting his attention to Sesshoumaru. “You will be the second-youngest CEO in the history of the business, and will have a huge, successful merger on your record less than a year into your reign. Of course, I’ll be running things in reality, so I can make a little more history of my own.” His gaze lifted up, an air of greed and ambition settling around him. “I can garner an investment bank of my very own and bring my biggest competitor to its knees, all at the same time. Now _that’s_ what I call retiring in a blaze of glory.”

Sesshoumaru balked. “What do you mean, _you’ll_ be running things in reality?”

His father chuckled. “Given the monumental mess you made whilst trying to prove to me that you could bring SHK into the fold? It’s obvious you can’t be trusted to run the operation on your own.”

 _Oh, yeah, it’s totally my fault my relationship with Kagome was ruined, because I wouldn’t use her to get in the back door of her company_ , Sesshoumaru seethed, feeling anger and bile rise up the back of his throat – not only at his father’s words, but at his condescending tone as well.

“Besides,” his father continued jovially, “you still have that damnable sense of honor, which will definitely need to be drummed out of you if you’re ever going to get anywhere in this world.” He gave a wistful smile. “Think of it as a hands-on learning experience. Besides, we both win in this arrangement: you get all the glory and prestige of the acquisition, and I can retire peacefully, rest assured that my heir will continue on successfully in my wake.”

Sesshoumaru clenched his fists, the only outward sign betraying his inner turmoil: a mix of shock, anger, hurt, and resentment. He didn’t dare respond, knowing he’d very much regret any words uttered in such a state.

If his father noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. “It won’t be too hard, I suspect, to juggle both at once,” he mused. “Inuyasha assures me he has the SHK situation well in hand, and is close to a resolution in my favor.”

Sesshoumaru shot his brother a murderous glare, a wave of jealous protectiveness washing through him. Inuyasha was again studying his nails with intense scrutiny, though his visage had paled considerably. “Is that so?” Sesshoumaru muttered under his breath, drawing no small satisfaction at seeing his brother squirm in response.

 _I hope it’s obvious to you that Father doesn’t give a damn about Kagome or her stake in this_ , he silently directed at his brother. _If you care about her in the least, you’ll keep that in mind_.

“So, that’s the reason for this meeting,” his father continued on blithely. “This was the fastest way to get you both up to speed on the current plan, and make you both aware of my newest goal. Now, Sesshoumaru, if you’ll just sign the papers there, I can have Akiko run them down to Legal, and – ”

“No,” Sesshoumaru interrupted forcefully.

His father glanced up, arching a brow at his son’s defiance. “What do you mean, ‘no’? Isn’t this company what you’ve been after all along? I’m _giving it_ to you.”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes blazed with golden fire as he met his father’s disapproving gaze. “Maybe one day I’ll be just like you, and step on people like you do, but that day hasn’t come yet,” he vowed. “I won’t be a pawn in your petty power games.”

His father furrowed his brow as he studied him, a calculating gleam in his eye. “Is this about SHK?” he finally asked.

Inuyasha snorted, reminding them both of his presence in the room. “You must be pretty confident that you’ll get that internship,” he muttered.

Sesshoumaru spared him a withering glance. “We don’t always get what we want just by sleeping with someone,” he remarked in response. He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a low rumble. “But then, you’d already know that, wouldn’t you, _little brother_?”

A furious flush stained Inuyasha’s cheeks as his jaw snapped shut.

“So you’re still intent on pursuing that, eh?” his father mused, bringing both sons’ attention back to him. “I suppose I must give you credit for persistence, if nothing else – seeing as how you’ve missed the point of the exercise entirely.”

Sesshoumaru shook his head. “No, I didn’t miss the point – after all, I’ve learned just exactly what it means to be your pawn, even without having the experience firsthand.” He shot another look at his brother, who was still red-faced, though less indignant. In fact, he appeared almost thoughtful.

“You intend to walk away from this deal today,” his father said, shifting back to the subject at hand. “My, my, but you do seem confident that the company will be on offer to you again in the future. What makes you so sure that I won’t disinherit you completely, especially after such a show of obstinacy?”

Sesshoumaru stood, heaving a sigh as he straightened his tie and pulled his suit jacket over his shoulders. “That’s where you made your one grave mistake, Father,” he informed him. 

His father sat back in his chair, eyeing Sesshoumaru thoughtfully, inviting him to continue.

“For all your flash-and-dance about being ambitious and breaking the mold in your power-seeking empire-building,” he continued, “you have been just as loud and proud about being traditional, especially when it comes to the fate of your companies.” 

“You are not my only son,” his father reminded him drolly.

“I’m your only _legitimate_ son,” Sesshoumaru shot back. “Ever since the day I was born, you have proclaimed me – publicly, _legally_ – as your only heir. You had to, in order to even get a toehold in this industry in the first place, to have anyone take you seriously as a competitor. And as much as you have accomplished in the last thirty years, you’re still bound by that very same tradition.”

“With my connections, it would take no time at all to establish Inuyasha’s paternity, _or_ to establish his legitimacy,” his father argued. “I could will everything to him upon my retirement, and leave you out in the cold.”

“And risk the scandal that would invite? The scandal you’ve worked so hard to hide these last few years by shielding Inuyasha’s true identity? The scandal that would ruin you and your life’s work?” Sesshoumaru countered. “I’d like to see you try.”

His blood was pounding in his ears, adrenaline coursing through his body as he stared down his father. _Do you really hate me that much, Father, that you would cut off your nose to spite your face?_

If so, it would prove the ultimate rejection, one from which he might never recover.

The tension in the room was suffocating as the two men squared off. Inuyasha glanced from one to the other, silently absorbing it all.

Whatever response Sesshoumaru was expecting – it was not the one he received.

After a long moment, their father’s face fell into an approving smile. “You may just turn into a worthy adversary yet, Sesshoumaru,” he murmured appreciatively.

~*~

Sesshoumaru sat at his kitchen table a few hours later, sipping a cup of lukewarm tea. He was still trying to process everything that had happened that afternoon, and was grateful, for once, to be home alone, thus having peace to work through his jumbled thoughts.

 _I can’t believe I did that_ , he marveled, tracing a groove in the tabletop. _I can’t believe I actually gave up the company I’ve been working so hard these last few years to obtain._

Had he made a mistake?

His father’s threats were very real, and Sesshoumaru recognized that, even in spite of his confident brush-off. He could do whatever he wanted with his companies. He could sell them off, or liquidate them, or leave them to any number of close associates. Only if he left everything to his bastard child did he face the possibility of breaking tradition and being shunned within the conservative business culture – well, more shunned than he already was, thanks to his reputation for shady tactics.

He shook his head. _No_ , he assured himself, _it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t live with myself if I folded now. I’d have the company, but I’d have no control over it – and that’s not the end goal_. No, it was better to stick to the plans he’d slaved over for the last few months, ever since learning of Inuyasha’s involvement in his father’s schemes. There was no reason to think he couldn’t get the position he wanted at SHK…and after the way he handled himself this afternoon, there was no reason to believe he couldn’t take his father head-on, either.

He lifted his cup, taking a long sip. 

Things had just gotten stickier, that’s all…

The front door slammed, bringing him out of his somewhat melancholy reverie. A few moments later, his flatmate appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Families suck,” Kagome declared, moving towards the stove.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered, taking another sip of his tea.

If she heard his comment, she ignored it. “This is my last summer of freedom before being shunted off into the real world, and apparently that means it’s the perfect time for a summer job at the family business,” she huffed, fumbling around in her tea cabinet as the water reheated.

Sesshoumaru turned in his seat, watching her with a somewhat amused expression as she bustled about.

“Yes, because that’s the way I want to spend my summer vacation – cooped up in some boring building, delivering mail to all the self-righteous blowhards that work there,” she rambled on.

“Delivering mail?” he repeated, hiding his smile behind his cup.

She shrugged absently. “It seemed the lesser of the two evils. At least working in the mailroom will allow me to walk around and not be cooped up in one office all day, staring at the walls and trying not to go out of my mind.” She chuckled a little as her kettle whistled, withdrawing it from the burner and pouring the steaming water into her cup. “I guess I shouldn’t complain too much, though – poor Souta got stuck with _that_ duty.”

Sesshoumaru’s heart warmed as she settled herself next to him at the table. “Don’t you care at all about the inner workings of your family’s business?” he asked curiously.

“Of course I do!” she replied. “It’s just – well, my dad had this philosophy, about learning business from the ground up.” She rolled her eyes. “He was taught that way, and he wanted us kids to carry on the tradition. So, each summer, we’re supposed to take a job with the grunts and get a feel for how they keep the company moving on a day-to-day basis.” 

She shrugged. “It’s not until we have enough education and experience to be in your position that we get to see the really interesting stuff. The cool internships are only available to a select, eligible few.”

“So you’re delivering mail, and your brother is – ?” he asked.

“He’s going to be an administrative assistant!” Kagome crowed gleefully. “Admittedly, it’s for the PR department, but can you imagine anything more boring for a fifteen-year-old boy? He’s going to go insane!”

The words went straight through him as he gazed at her. This was a rare, uninhibited, effervescent moment for her, one he hadn’t seen in ages. She seemed completely relaxed and happy, if a bit annoyed, but she had never been more beautiful to him. He liked seeing her like this, so carefree and easygoing, and it only made him feel even worse about how everything had ended between them.

“Sesshoumaru? Is everything okay?” Kagome’s words brought him back to the surface, and his gut clenched when he saw the concern shining in her eyes. She looked away, her voice softening as she asked her next question. “How did the interview go today?”

“Aced it,” he replied loftily, pushing a hand through his hair. “They made me an offer.”

She nodded, chewing on her lip before facing him again, her expression cautiously guarded. “Are you going to take it?”

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “There’s only one job I truly want,” he admitted. _And knowing you’ll be around as well only makes me want it more_ , he added silently.

A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she nodded again, taking a sip of her tea. “Then why the long face, if the interview went so well?” she prodded after a moment.

He hesitated, unsure how much he was willing to disclose to her about his personal business. On the one hand, it really had nothing to do with her, and she was probably only asking out of idle curiosity…

…but on the other hand, not telling her the little things had been one of the reasons their relationship had fallen apart.

“I had an unexpected meeting with my father after the interview,” he finally said. “He rather strongly suggested that I give up the internship hunt and go to work for him.”

“Oh,” she sighed, a mixture of sympathy, understanding, and disappointment gracing her face. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth, and it was everything he could do to keep his eyes trained to hers instead of allowing them to drift downward…

“I refused,” he continued after a moment. “I won’t compromise myself, not even for him.” 

She granted him a small smile. “So you’ll be there on Monday, for the interviews?”

He nodded in response. “Of course.” 

Her smiled grew, even as she tried to hide it behind her cup. “For once in my life, I have to say I’m looking forward to the process,” she admitted.

He inclined his head, answering her smile with one of his own. “So am I,” he agreed.


	20. Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #21 – “You’ll do.”

**19\. Decision**

Kagome straightened in her seat, demurely perching herself on the edge of the chair and crossing her ankles at an angle behind her. She kept her eyes lowered, focused on her notepad, resisting the very tempting urge to glance up at the wall clock. _God, but these meetings are boring_ , she despaired internally, tucking her hands into her lap. Mercifully, it was the last day of board meetings and panel interviews, and in her opinion, it couldn’t end a moment too soon.

The only thing worse than the prospect of sacrificing her summer vacation for a grunt job at her family’s company was spending the three weeks prior sitting in interviews – all day, every day. As a member of the board of directors, she – along with her mother and younger brother – was required to be at all final interviews for all positions, from senior executive management all the way down to mail room intern. 

Holding a vote of power and being part of the final decision making process wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be.

And – after three weeks of the sitting in the same interview (over and over again), with the same placid, eager, hopeful fresh grads and/or desperate, impatient, cynical middle manager wannabes – she was at the end of her rope. Time seemed to stand still as she listened to the same questions and answers, repeated until infinity; hell, she probably recited them in her sleep, so ingratiated were they in her brain. Only one thing kept her from going insane, one tiny little detail that kept a spark of interest aflame under the waves of mind-numbing boredom – 

– it was Sesshoumaru’s day to interview.

She bit back a tiny smile as she sneaked an irresistible peek at the clock, her eyes lingering as the second hand ticked away. He was due at half-past three, which meant…he was already there, sitting in the waiting room on the other side of that door, calmly and rationally collecting himself in preparation for what was to be _his_ last interview as well. Her heart skipped a beat as the image formed in her mind’s eye; only the sudden, rather loud clearing of a throat broke her from her reverie.

“Mr. Malliard, you were saying?” one of her fellow board members prompted gently, bringing Kagome’s attention back to the matter at hand. She reached for her pen, scribbling across her page as if she’d just remembered something important, a warm flush rising up the back of her neck as she felt Inuyasha’s eyes boring into her. She pointedly kept her gaze directed elsewhere, unwilling to look up and acknowledge his lingering stares. It was completely inappropriate, and no doubt her fellow board members had noticed his behavior. Not to mention, she hated being the object of such intense scrutiny, singled out from the panel of seven. 

He was only making the already tenuous interview worse, and he didn’t even realize it.

She winced as a wave of guilt surged through her. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he was completely intimidated with the style of interviewing taking place. The Japanese were notorious for tough questions, followed by long silences, as well as an overall air of formality most foreigners found unnerving. He was doing his best to take it in stride, but his constant fidgeting, verbal stalling, and silent pleas for help in her direction were swiftly undoing any good impression his resume and application had made on the committee. He had risen to angry bait several times, especially when it came to his family life; Kagome’s gut had clenched when he’d indignantly spun the tale of his mother’s death and his subsequent arrival into the country under his father’s parentage. He dodged all questions about his father, no doubt thinking it the best course of action, unaware that he was rousing more suspicion than he was quelling. Things had calmed a bit upon moving towards the ‘team player’ aspects of the job, but ultimately, the damage had been done.

“Thank you, Mr. Malliard, that will be all,” the senior vice president said, interrupting Inuyasha’s rambling speech. He bestowed a small smile on the young man as he stood.

Inuyasha’s jaw snapped shut and he quickly rose to his feet, bowing to each of them in turn. “Thank you, Mr. Takahashi, Mr. Takeda, Ms. Sugiyama, Ms. Morigami, Ms. Higurashi,” he said hastily. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he finally caught Kagome’s gaze. “It was a pleasure to speak with you today.”

“Indeed,” Takahashi said blandly, gathering up his meishi and tucking it into his notes. “If you would be as so kind as to wait outside, we will be announcing our slate of offers later this afternoon.”

“ _Hai_ ,” Inuyasha assented, bowing one more time, before being led out of the room by Souta.

Kagome sank back into her seat with a stifled groan, all too aware that all eyes in the room were on her. How was she ever going to explain _this_? Inuyasha’s application had been the weakest on the table to start with, and now…ugh. Everyone was under the impression that she had pulled strings to get him this far in the process, when, in fact, she had done no such thing. _Great, just great_ , she thought, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. _Nothing like having Takahashi and Takeda breathing down my neck as well._

“Poor dear,” came the soothing lilt her mother’s voice, accompanied by the soft tap of her hand on Kagome’s arm. “He reminds me of your father.”

Kagome furrowed her brow, surprised at such a sympathetic reaction. “He does?”

Her mother gave her a soft smile in response. “Your father hated interviews as well. For years he’d come home, sick as a dog after facing these panels. He was far too modest for his own good.”

Before Kagome could reply, Takeda turned to them with a sharp eye. “Ladies,” he intoned, indicating for them to rise from their seats again.

Kagome’s mother squeezed her hand as they stood, but Kagome couldn’t resist shooting a glare in Takeda’s direction. He was a junior vice president and head of the finance department, second only to Takahashi in terms of power and status in the room, and he reveled in it as much as possible. He was also one of the failed few, unable to snatch up a larger piece of the company pie in the wake of her father’s death. He made no secret of his opposition to the family trust’s position on the board, so being stuck on interview panels with him was – _trying_ , at best.

“Only one more to go, sweetie,” her mother assured her, “and this will all be over.”

“Indeed,” Takahashi agreed, narrowing his eyes as their final candidate approached.

Before she could contemplate what _that_ meant, Sesshoumaru appeared in the doorway, striking a first impression that left Kagome’s mouth dry. He was wearing a slim fit, single-breasted Armani woven pinstripe suit in dark grey, complete with a stark white shirt and monochrome tie. His long silver hair was pulled back at the nape, giving him a clean-cut, professional look, while at the same time complementing his choice of suit colors. As expected, his expression was calm and confident, his golden eyes betraying nothing as he assessed his surroundings.

“Welcome, Mr. Taisho,” Takahashi greeted him, breaking the tension that had filled the room. He gave a curt bow before extending his hand, his expression carefully blank.

“Thank you, Mr. Takahashi,” Sesshoumaru replied, returning the gestures. He greeted the other three managers in quick succession, as well as Kagome’s mother, nodding acknowledgement to Souta and Kagome before engaging in the ritualistic meishi exchange. 

It was just as well that Kagome didn’t have to move, or speak, or otherwise pay attention, because all she could do was stare. She’d seen him in interview attire before, but nothing like this – he had obviously taken it up a notch, well aware of the fact that he was stepping into hostile territory. She allowed her eyes to follow the movements of his body as he dipped into bows and received the business cards, her heart steadily gaining traction in her chest as a wave of heat washed over her. Any irritation or boredom she had been suffering was gone now; she couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of herself, and his nearness, his absolute beauty and confident demeanor.

 _The man is absolute sex on a stick_ , she thought, absently licking her lips.

“Let us begin,” Takahashi intoned, indicating for Sesshoumaru to sit. Everyone followed his directive, settling into their chairs and arranging papers and meishi in front of themselves. Sesshoumaru released the button of his jacket, a movement Kagome couldn’t help but catch from the corner of her eye, a simple gesture that made her shift in her seat.

“Tell us about yourself, Mr. Taisho,” Ms. Morigami began pleasantly, poising her pen over her notebook in anticipation.

“ _Hai_ ,” Sesshoumaru nodded. “I’m twenty-five years old, currently single, career-oriented. I graduated first in my class from high school, earned my bachelor’s degree in economics in three years with highest honors, and have just successfully completed my thesis defense for a master’s in business administration, also conferred with highest honors. My father is the head of Taisho Enterprises, and my mother is the chairperson of the Taisho Foundation.”

“Why did you pursue your post-graduate education?” Takeda jumped in.

Sesshoumaru turned his attention to him before glancing down at the table. “I am to be my father’s heir, so it seemed pertinent to direct my education along this path from the start.”

“Why do you wish to work for SHK? What do you know about our company?” Takahashi questioned.

Kagome watched carefully as Sesshoumaru acknowledged the senior vice president, allowing his eyes to drift to the middle distance before explaining. Her heart was pounding in her chest, adrenaline coursing along her nerves as she listened to the rapid-fire back and forth. The questioning, though polite, was on the edge of terse, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. She shouldn’t have been surprised, really, that the air of formality had taken a decidedly cold turn in the last few minutes. All of her fellow board members were well aware of Sesshoumaru’s background, and of the rivalry between their fathers. From the way Takahashi and Takeda were acting, she suspected they might have also heard the rumblings of rumors that Taisho was out to make a bid on SHK – a hostile one, if necessary.

But Sesshoumaru was holding up beautifully under their questioning. He sat straight in his chair, leaning forward slightly, his eyes intense on the speaking interviewer before drifting away, a clear sign of respect and deference to their authority. He didn’t blink or wince or rise to any leading bait, merely answering with a customary “ _hai_ ” before elaborating, where necessary.

“How well do you work under pressure, towards deadlines?” Takahashi asked, glancing over Sesshoumaru’s application.

“Very well,” he replied. “I am quite capable of managing time and resources in order to complete projects in a timely manner.”

“Then why did it take you almost two years to finish your master’s degree?” Takahashi shot back.

Sesshoumaru was quiet for a moment. “My project was very extensive, and required an extra round of research.”

Takeda raised an eyebrow, his mouth twisting into a skeptical sneer. “This thesis, though complicated, is not one that would require two solid years of research,” he argued. “Were you having personal issues during that timeframe as well?”

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed slightly, steady on Takeda’s. “No.”

The two men stared at each other for a long moment, the tension ratcheting higher and higher as they squared off. The room fell into complete silence, with all eyes on their candidate, but he didn’t blink.

“You’re aware,” Ms. Sugiyama cut in, “that the position you are applying for can be very stressful? Long hours, long discussions, long negotiations – it can be very frustrating; a lot of work for minimal results.”

Kagome’s heart was in her throat as her eyes darted back and forth between interviewer and interviewee. 

“Yes,” Sesshoumaru answered.

Another patch of silence stretched out between them, as the four managers conferred quietly. For the first time since the interview began, Sesshoumaru glanced at Kagome, his expression impassive as his golden gaze lingered on hers for a fleeting moment. She tensed and melted all at once, her breath catching in her lungs, the muscles across her abdomen constricting.

“How long would it take you to make a meaningful contribution to our firm?” Ms. Morigami finally asked, breaking the silence once more.

“I would require but a brief period of adjustment and orientation,” Sesshoumaru allowed, his eyes drifting down once again. “Once I set my mind on a path, I pursue my goals relentlessly.”

“Hmm,” Takahashi mused, scratching something into his notes. The pace of the questioning had slowed considerably, though it did not alleviate any of the nervous tension of the room.

“How long do you wish to stay with us?” Kagome’s mother spoke up, offering her token question of the session. 

“As long as I am welcome,” Sesshoumaru replied. “I am very interested in this position, precisely because it is such a rarity in this industry.”

“How would you describe your own personality?” Ms. Morigami cut in.

“ _Hai_ ,” Sesshoumaru acknowledged. “I believe I am balanced – skeptical but accepting; open-minded but fair; patient but decisive. I’m reliable, honest, principled, and loyal.”

“What would you say are your strong points?” she continued.

“I’m a very goal-oriented person,” Sesshoumaru contended. “Thus, I have cultivated a strong ability to gather evidence quickly and make decisions in a timely manner. I enjoy working on complicated projects, puzzling my way to a solution – using creative means, if necessary.” After a beat, he added, “I can be diplomatic, as the situation calls.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Takahashi mumbled, studying Sesshoumaru for a long moment before turning back to his notes. 

Kagome stifled a laugh. _Talk about having no sense of humor_ , she thought. Her heart swelled a little with pride and love at this idea of Sesshoumaru being able to match Takahashi and Takeda snark for snark.

Speaking of Takeda… “How about your weaknesses?” he asked, raising an imperious eyebrow.

Kagome was surprised when Sesshoumaru glanced at her before answering. “I can be stubborn,” he conceded, “willful and proud. I have a very good sense of sticking to my convictions, only willing to change my mind when provided with sufficient evidence. This is something that could come in very handy during a difficult negotiation, as you are no doubt aware.”

“How much do you take after your father?” Takahashi mused aloud.

If the question startled Sesshoumaru, he didn’t react. “I share his sense of ambition,” he replied carefully, “and his quest for success. I find some of his tactics questionable, and wish to learn the ways other powerful companies seek the same achievements.”

The line and pace of questioning was deliberate, intending to unnerve Sesshoumaru. Takahashi and Takeda was masters of silence and drawing out information in the negative spaces; moving from personal, to professional, to specific, to vague questions was an effort to break Sesshoumaru’s rhythm, put him on edge and push, to see how he’d react when faced with an unknown and unreliable situation.

However, it was the poorly-disguised abhorrence and provoking nature of their tones that set Kagome’s teeth on edge. It felt like they were all dancing around the real question, one which loomed larger and larger, like an elephant in the room. None of them seemed intent on addressing it, not even Sesshoumaru, but she couldn’t stand the veiled hints and threats in the questions that _were_ being asked. He was more than qualified for the position, and he deserved a fair chance at it. She didn’t want to see uninformed suspicions and familial prejudice keeping him from it.

“Why are you coming here to seek a job, instead of sticking to your father’s company?” she asked suddenly, slicing through the silence of the room. “I can’t imagine he’s pleased with the idea of you looking outside your own inheritance for gainful employment.”

Sesshoumaru turned to her, his eyes widening imperceptibly as he studied her thoughtfully. Her heart pumped furiously in her chest as she stared back, full of pride and love and possessiveness – in him, for her family’s company, of her position and right to join the questioning fray.

“You can offer me something no one else can,” he replied, his eyes gleaming, before his gaze was swept back to the managerial side of the board. 

“My father is indeed unhappy with my decision to pursue opportunities outside of Taisho Enterprises,” he continued, “but I believe working in your mergers and acquisitions department will give me invaluable knowledge and experience. If I am hired, I will work solely for the best interests of SHK.”

“How do we know you can be a team player?” Takeda sputtered.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head. “I believe my record speaks for itself,” he replied, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and producing a newspaper clipping. He placed it on the table and slid it across, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile as Takeda gaped, Ms. Sugiyama and Ms. Morigami looking over his shoulders, only to come away with similar reactions.

“I believe that will be all,” Takahashi said, standing abruptly. “Thank you for coming in, Mr. Taisho.”

Sesshoumaru stood, rebuttoning his jacket before falling into a bow in one smooth gesture. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Takahashi, Mr. Takeda, Ms. Sugiyama, Ms. Morigami, Ms. Higurashi,” he addressed each of them, bowing in turn. He nodded in acknowledgement to Souta and Kagome, allowing his eyes to linger on her for an extra beat before turning his attention to the meishi in front of him.

“If you would be as so kind as to wait outside, we will be announcing our slate of offers later this afternoon,” Takahashi continued.

“Of course,” Sesshoumaru murmured, carefully picking up each meishi and storing it with the rest of his notes. He waited for Souta to come around again, leaving the room at a respectful distance from his guide.

When the teen returned, Takahashi sat once more, bringing out his notes for all of the candidates. “Let’s discuss this, ladies and gentlemen,” he announced. “I believe we have enough information on each of our possible candidates to make a decision for an offer.”

“I don’t like that Taisho,” Takeda replied, his disgust clear in his tone. “I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

“Personal opinions aside,” Takahashi continued, sending a withering glance in his junior executive’s direction, “what are our impressions of the candidates’ qualifications?”

“Mr. Taisho certainly has the experience and education,” Ms. Sugiyama spoke up, fingering the newspaper clipping. “It would be a boon to gain someone with his curiosity and drive.”

“Not to mention, his sense of honor,” Ms. Morigami contended. “Did you see this, Takahashi?” She passed the clipping down to his end.

TAISHO ENTERPRISES TO STAY WHOLE FLEET, read the headline. SON AND HEIR TURNS DOWN DEAL TO BECOME SECOND-YOUNGEST CEO IN COMPANY’S HISTORY.

“So Taisho’s up to his old tricks again, eh,” Takahashi mumbled, sending the clipping down to the family trust end of the table.

“All the more reason to be wary of letting his son set foot in the door here,” Takeda argued. “Who’s to say he isn’t a spy on his father’s behalf?”

“Let’s look at our other choices,” Kagome’s mother suggested. “Mr. Malliard seems quite personable.”

“He’s awfully young, though,” Ms. Sugiyama said. “Generally I prefer a higher level of maturity in my employees.”

“I’m not sure how well our colleagues would react to a _gaijin_ anyway,” Ms. Morigami added. “We’re not looking to expand outside of Japan right now.”

“That is, indeed, a consideration,” Takahashi mused. He shot a glance down the length of the table. “I’m wondering how he made it this far into the process anyway,” he added pointedly.

“You read his resume,” Ms. Morigami cut in. “It was beautiful!”

“ _We_ ’re not the ones who consented to passing him along for a final interview,” Kagome’s mother said. She was something of a representative for their group, as they, collectively, held only one vote on the board.

“What about Mr. Hatanaka?” Takeda cut in, mentioning the third and final candidate, the first of their interviews that morning.

“He won’t be intimidating anybody anytime soon,” Kagome muttered, drawing to her mind’s eye the man’s visage – short, shy, balding, and overly fond of his thick glasses. He had been unassuming in his interview, saying all the right things, but leaving no strong impression at all. In her mind, he wasn’t even in the running.

Takeda spared her a sharp glance. “He has excellent credentials,” he huffed, “and he’s a proven team player. He’s worked for me for five years already, and knows his place very well.”

Kagome’s mother furrowed her brow. “Five years?” she questioned gently. “Isn’t that a rather slow career trajectory?”

They continued to argue in the same vein for some time, tearing through each candidate’s application, resume, and their notes from the interviews. It became obvious Takeda was stubbornly against hiring “that Taisho boy,” while the others struggled over who brought more to the table, and who would have the most to gain from the position. Ms. Sugiyama, the division manager, was especially insistent on wanting someone with the potential of staying on beyond the internship time limit.

As the managers argued, so did the family. Kagome was torn; on the one hand, she had told Sesshoumaru she wouldn’t help him in any way – she’d made it perfectly clear he was on his own to get this position, based on his own merits. On the other hand, given the intense hatred he’d sparked in Takeda, and the skepticism growing within Takahashi about the cost-risk ratio of hiring the son of their biggest business rival in _any_ capacity, it was looking more and more likely to come down to the family’s vote, whether she liked it or not.

“I liked Inuyasha,” Souta said with a shrug. “He seemed cool, and willing to learn and stuff.”

His mother gave him a patient look. “Well, personal impressions can’t make the total decision for us,” she chided. “What did you think of his background?”

“It was cool,” he reiterated. “I mean – dude’s from France! That’s got to count for something!”

Kagome’s mother turned to her with a defeated smile. “Kagome, what do you think?”

“Well,” she started, twisting her hands together, “Sess – I mean, Mr. Taisho is beyond qualified for the position, and has the education to go along with his experience, but there is that whole family angle to consider, I guess…and Mr. Malliard certainly has potential – ”

“Kagome,” her mother interrupted, “Just remember, personal feelings shouldn’t guide this decision.”

Kagome furrowed her brow. “I know,” she replied, rather irritated that her mother would think she didn’t understand the value of the actual job criteria in evaluating potential candidates.

“All I’m saying is – don’t pick your boyfriend, just because he’s your boyfriend, okay?” her mother reiterated. 

Kagome didn’t know whether to cry or laugh; as it was, she could only stare at her mother incredulously.

“I know you and Inuyasha became close around Christmas,” her mother continued, “and he _is_ a very charming young man, but to be considered for a position of this magnitude? Just think carefully, dear.”

“I – ” Kagome sputtered. “You think – that – Inuyasha and I – ?” _How could she think that?_ she thought wildly, digging back into her memories…only to realize, she’d never really gotten around to telling them that she had, in fact, been involved with a very different candidate indeed.

 _Are you even aware that I’m living with Sesshoumaru?_ she wondered silently as she eyed her mother.

Before she could give her question voice, Takahashi tapped the table, signaling for conversations to come to a halt. “Let’s take a vote, people,” he said. “We can’t keep them waiting out there forever.” 

When all eyes fell upon him once more, he voiced his opinion. “I choose Malliard.”

“I vote for Hatanaka,” Takeda said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mr. Taisho,” Ms. Sugiyama said.

“Mr. Taisho,” Ms. Morigami agreed.

“And the family vote goes to?” Takahashi prodded.

Kagome’s mother looked at her children expectantly. “I like Mr. Taisho,” she said. 

“Nah – let’s go with Mr. Malliard,” Souta argued.

All eyes turned to Kagome.

“Well, Kagome? Your vote decides the family vote, which might help decide the main vote,” her mother prompted.

Kagome looked up at the expectant faces surrounding her. _Well, damn_ , she thought. _It was never supposed to come down to me._

_I promised I wouldn’t help him…_

~*~

Exactly two hours after the final interview, Kagome emerged from the conference room, smoothing her hands over her grey sheath skirt and tugging the ends of her blazer into place over her waist. It was her turn to make the final offer to the candidate, a duty she shared with her mother. She straightened her shoulders as the main reception area came into view, doing her best to appear confident yet demure.

It was an act she hadn’t quite refined, in spite of years of practice.

“Gentlemen,” she announced, brushing her hair from her shoulder as she glided into the room. “We apologize for keeping you.”

The three men stood as she approached, straightening shirt sleeves and smoothing ties. She smiled at each of them in turn – Hatanaka on the left, Inuyasha on the right, and Sesshoumaru in the middle – and greeted them with a small bow.

“It was, understandably, a tough decision,” she continued, fighting to keep her breath even and her heart from racing, “but in the end, we’ve decided to make the first offer” – she reached for his hand – “to Mr. Taisho.”

His hand was warm and firm in hers, causing a curl of heat to rise in her abdomen. “Congratulations,” she said, unable to hide her smile.

His eyes sparkled as his gaze met hers. “Thank you,” he replied. “I accept.”

Kagome froze, her eyes widening. “Are you sure?” she replied, her voice not much above a whisper. “You have a full week to consider it, so you don’t have to give us an answer _right now_ – ”

“I accept,” he repeated, covering her hand with both of his for emphasis, an answering smile gracing his lips.

Kagome grinned, suppressing a squeal of delight, settling instead for a gentle squeeze of his fingers. She swayed forward, half a beat away from throwing her arms around his neck, before checking herself, remembering the presence of the other candidates, not to mention the receptionist…

“…I’ll go inform the board of your decision, then,” she choked out, fighting the flush of heat rising up the back of her neck.

Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from his and took a step back. “Congratulations again, and thanks to everyone for applying,” she said, granting each of them a small, parting bow.

She turned on her heel and left, hoping that she was displaying the same quiet air of confidence with which she arrived, but had to stop herself outside the conference room, letting the full sense of giddiness and glee wash through her before facing the board again. _We’re going to be working together_ , she thought. _And he smiled at me...talk about it all being worth it in the end!_

It took almost another hour to finalize the rest of the day’s business. Kagome breathed a sigh of relief as she finally exited the building, happy to be able to take off her jacket and unpin her hair. The early evening was still bright, owing to the long days of summer, and she was actually content to walk for a bit, savoring the light breeze and working off some of her excited energy. Maybe walking all the way home was a bit of an ask, especially in those heels, but a few bus stops wouldn’t be – 

“Want a ride?” a voice called out, breaking into her thoughts halfway down the sidewalk.

She glanced up, momentarily forgetting how to breathe as she realized that it was Sesshoumaru who had called out to her. He was leaning against the hood of his car, jacket open, tie loosened, collar unbuttoned, flipping his keys in his hand.

 _He waited for me?!_ she thought, twisting her jacket over her arm as she contemplated his offer. Her movements ceased as he straightened and began walking towards her, a thoughtful look on his face and a tiny smile playing on his lips. His expression turned amused as he drew closer, but she found all she could do was stare at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, quirking a brow as he came to a halt in front of her.

“Yeah,” she breathed, losing herself in his golden gaze for a moment before shaking herself back to reality. “Yeah – yeah, sorry, I guess I just blanked out there for a moment.”

“Then let me take you home,” he said. “No one this beautiful should have to ride the bus.”

She blushed. “Is that a standing offer, then, seeing as how we’ll be working together this summer?”

He shrugged. “If I decide to drive…then, yeah.” 

He flipped his keys again and headed back for his car, Kagome trailing behind him, doing everything she could to resist reaching out for his hair, longing to feel the silky soft strands cascading between her fingers once more.

 _We’re not there yet_ , she reminded herself as she slipped into the passenger’s side and buckled herself in. She eyed him as he did the same, turning the key in the ignition and reaching for the gearshift.

_But maybe…_

“I’m glad you accepted the job,” she said impulsively, laying her hand over his as he switched gears.

He looked down at their joined hands, before looking up at her. “Me, too,” he agreed, turning his hand over so that their palms touched.

_…we will be soon._


	21. Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #11 – “Thought I needed this.”

**20\. Intervention**

Kagome gazed into her mirror with a critical eye, tugging at the neatly tailored tails of her dress shirt. Its cream color brought out the slight natural blush of her skin and complemented the soft grey tones of her brand new suit. She heaved an exasperated sigh when she was unable to settle the fabric just as she wanted, deciding instead to throw on the blazer and button it to conceal her perceived faults.

 _I look like hell_ , she mused, turning her attention to her face and pinching color into her cheeks. _But I guess that’s to be expected, considering I didn’t sleep for shit last night_. As far as she was concerned, it was way too early to be up and dressed for the day – but then, she had been far too excited to sleep.

It was the first day of her summer job.

She couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips as she dusted a bit of powder over her cheeks. She never thought she’d be so looking forward to going to work – a slave to the time clock and structured days that forced her to go to bed before midnight (oh, the horror!). And the truth was, that _wasn’t_ what had her so giddy and loopy at seven am. No, it was the means of travel to said job, and the potential time for companionship that came with it.

These could be the most crucial fifteen to twenty minutes of her life, and she wanted to be ready for them.

With one last check of her mascara and lipstick, she hurriedly stuffed her uniform clothes in a bag and moved out into the hall, locking her door with a swift turn of the key. The heels of her shoes clicked pleasingly as she threaded through the common room towards the kitchen, her heart pounding in cadence as she made her approach. Anticipation rolled through her stomach as she spotted the glint of silver hair from the corner of her eye, and she took a deep breath, plastering on a radiant smile.

“Good morning!” she chirped as she entered the room, a bit louder than she intended, settling her bag in a chair at the table before making a beeline for the tea kettle. She barely noticed that Sesshoumaru was standing with his back to her, rinsing dishes at the kitchen sink. Making an entrance had taken more out of her than she’d realized – she was so _not_ a morning person.

“Morning,” he returned absently, shutting off the water and reaching for a dish towel. “I’ve saved you some tea; it’s in the thermos on the table. We’d better leave now if we don’t want to be late.”

Kagome furrowed her brow as she turned to him. “Late? What do you mean, late? We don’t have to be there until quarter past eight.”

Sesshoumaru finished stacking his now-clean dishes in his cabinet. “Yes, but the bus to the metro leaves at seven-thirty.” He glanced at her, stilling in a moment, his eyes traveling down the length of her and back. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of feminine pride at his obviously appreciative gaze.

His eyes were sparkling as they latched back onto hers. “You have to wear Prada to deliver the mail?” he queried, amused.

“No, but I appreciate travelling in style,” she returned with a smile. “Speaking of which, why are we taking the bus? I thought you were going to drive…?”

Sesshoumaru picked up the thermos and tossed it to her before shrugging into his own suit jacket. “No, I merely offered you a lift if I ever decided to drive,” he corrected. “My advice? Pray for rain.”

Kagome gaped at his retreating back, only just having time to shut off the stove and grab her own bag before he left the apartment. She trailed along beside him, heart still racing in her chest as she attempted to make sense of his cryptic statement. “What are you saying?” she asked, tucking the thermos in with the rest of her belongings. “You’ll only drive in the rain? But that’s when everyone is taking public transportation!”

“Precisely,” he replied with a sage nod of his head. “Look around – it’s hardly worth the effort to fight the weather when you have absolutely no chance of staying dry.” He waved his arms, gesturing at the pristine state of the sidewalk – not a tree or protective covering in sight. “I’d rather drive when the weather is terrible,” he contended, “and everyone else crowding on the metro, which would inevitably be delayed by the rain anyway, if it meant I had a fighting chance to get to work on time and in the same state as when I left home.”

“Your logic is impeccable,” Kagome groused sarcastically as they made it to the bus stop. Here she was, daydreaming about how they’d arriving together in style, when instead they’d be packed into the train like a bunch of sardines. She did _not_ break out her best new outfit only to have it go to waste like this!

He shrugged. “Might as well make use of public transportation while we still can,” he mused. They braced themselves as the bus roared up, elbowing their way on board with the rest of their fellow commuters. He grabbed her arm as the doors closed, pulling her close as a few last-minute stragglers forced their way on board. “Like I said,” he murmured, electricity sparking between them for the split second he held her arm, “pray for rain.”

She stifled a laugh, only too happy to be pressed against him in the crush of humanity that occupied the bus. Once at the train station, they managed to maneuver into one of the emptier cars at the front of the metro, but she stood as close as she dared anyway. She could feel the lighthearted mirth of that morning drain away from him as they drew closer to their destination; by the time they hit their stop, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he stepped out of the car without a second look in her direction.

She pushed through the crowd, rather impressed that she was able to catch up with his purposeful strides while tottering on heels. Closing one hand over the strap of her bag at her shoulder, she casually slipped the other into his, lacing her fingers through his and giving his hand a supportive squeeze. They made it up the stairs to the street level, and she was just about to congratulate herself on her smooth move when he came to a complete halt, his arm extending along with hers as she continued to move forward.

She glanced back, opening her mouth to question him, but found her words stuck in her throat. His eyes were intense on hers, searing into her, stealing the very breath from her lungs. His expression was impassive, as usual, but she could sense the silent plea that lurked just below his surface.

“I thought you didn’t want to be late,” she said, striving to keep her tone patient as she closed the distance between them.

His eyes strayed to their joined hands. “We can’t,” he said simply.

Her heart dropped to the lower reaches of her stomach, but when she tried to pull away, he held firm. She bit her lip as her gaze joined his, utter confusion washing through her as his fingers curled even tighter around hers. “I don’t understand,” she murmured.

“First impressions are tantamount,” he replied. “I don’t want to walk into that building today and leave even a hint of the idea that I landed this job on anything other than my own merit.” His eyes met hers, determination and resolve shining in their golden depths. “I am still the enemy, and it’s crucial that they trust me and my sincerity.”

 _And_ I _think you’re making too much out simple hand-holding_ , she thought petulantly. “Believe me, no one will notice,” she muttered, a hint of bitterness in her voice. _After all, if my family can’t even be bothered to find out who I’m living with, why would they care that we’re also working together?_

“Takeda will,” he said shrewdly, referring to the junior executive in charge of the finance department. “I wish to tread very lightly around him, at least for the first couple of days. He has the power to doom me to meaningless paperwork for the entirety of my internship, and that would defeat the entire point of my being here.”

She hesitated, drawing their hands together so that their palms touched, reluctant to let go so easily. Even though she had been able to move past their explosive breakup, she’d never really gotten over him; she knew if they were to find their way back to each other, it would require patience, understanding, and quite a few baby steps.

Maybe baby steps towards baby steps, even.

“Kagome,” he tried again, capturing her attention once more. “My family name is both a blessing and a curse. This is something I have to do in order to move out from my father’s shadow.”

“Okay,” she agreed, letting go, bringing both hands to grasp the strap of her bag. “It’s no big deal.”

He narrowed his eyes, studying her momentarily, before they continued walking the short distance to the main building housing SHK Corporation headquarters. “Thanks for understanding,” he said under his breath as they pushed through the double glass doors at its entrance.

She gave him a small smile. _I love you, of course I’d understand_. “See you after work, okay?” she replied, turning down the corridor to the mail room before he could respond.

~*~

The hectic environment that greeted Kagome after she’d changed into her uniform was enough to make her forget any early-morning awkwardness. The mail room turned out to be a cross between a post office and a factory, with people bustling about everywhere in between. She met her fellow summer employees, and quickly jumped at the chance to claim the route that contained the finance department. Her enthusiasm struck an amused chord with her supervisor, but it only appeared to puzzle the other interns. She was assigned to shadow another clerk that day to learn the ropes of her job.

Their schedule proved fairly simple: in the morning, they delivered hand mail, including all letters, bills, confidential correspondence, and small packages. After lunch, they tackled the larger packages. She was surprised to learn that even the most unlikely of departments received large packaged mail on a fairly regular basis.

“We try to cut down on people having their eBay auctions and the like shipped here,” her intern-trainer told her blithely, “but I guess some people don’t want their spouses to know what they order online. Why they prefer _us_ to know, I have no idea – most of them see we mail clerks on a more regular basis than their wives!”

The day seemed to fly by, as she worked to get a handle on the mail cart and learn her rather complicated route, which covered three floors. She only just caught a glimpse of her roommate along the way, happy to see him ensconced in a meeting with advisors and colleagues. An even bigger surprise of the day was finding his office; perhaps unsurprisingly, it was the first landmark she memorized for her route.

By the time the day was done, her feet were killing her – even in her regulation walking shoes! – and she was all too happy to change back into her fashionable outfit and crawl out to the metro stop. It had been a lot to take in, but she was confident that once she became familiar with the schedule and the route, it would be just as breezy a position as she originally thought.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Sesshoumaru sitting in the lobby, thumbing through a magazine when she waltzed into the space. “Waiting for me?” she asked in a hushed voice as she drew closer, only to be rewarded with one of his rare smiles in response.

“Ah, good, so it appears our schedules _do_ match up to some extent,” he said, tossing the magazine back on the table and standing, all in one fluid motion. “Now I know, for future reference.”

She furrowed her brow as they walked out of the building. “How do you mean?” she asked. “Did you have to wait long?”

He shrugged, tugging his jacket over his shoulders before shooting her a coy glance. “If it ever rains,” he clarified shrewdly, “I’ll only have to wait five minutes.” 

She couldn’t help but smile at that, her heart warming at the very idea. It seemed whatever strain between them from that morning had dissipated, and for that, she was grateful. It was something small, but it was also a difference in the way they interacted now. She understood the need to be patient, to let him work, and speak, and reach out at his own pace. She’d long ago realized that pushing would only lead to heartache, and she was determined not to make the same mistakes twice.

 _To love someone is to set them free, to make their own decisions_ , she reminded herself as they descended into the metro for the second time that day. _I just have to stick to my resolution, and hope that my patience is rewarded._

~*~

Their lives settled into something of a routine over the next few weeks. They would travel to and from work together, often sharing a cup of tea for breakfast, and then one later in the evening, after dinner. Kagome found herself physically exhausted after toiling behind a mail cart for the better part of eight hours, and ended her nights rather early, zonked out on the common room sofa in front of any variety of inane television programs. It was a peaceful way to end to a hectic day; Sesshoumaru had fallen back into the habit of reading the evening paper in the same room, that familiar sense of companionable silence cocooning them as it had in their first days as roommates.

Kagome didn’t go out nearly as much as she had while classes were still in session, but found she didn’t really miss the party life. She’d been out of the scene for so long – between dating Sesshoumaru and then trying to get over him – that it almost felt strange to even be invited to hang out with some of that same crowd. She saw Sango and Miroku on occasion – and had even found herself in the presence of Inuyasha once or twice – but mostly passed her time by focusing on her job, and getting back into the rhythm of a structured life.

Of course, as much as she could, she also attempted to get closer to Sesshoumaru. He was very busy with his work, having dived head-first into a merger negotiation deal during his first week on the job, so the few times she was able to see him during the day reduced her to a mass of giggling twelve-year-old schoolgirl. She had taken to texting Sango with regular updates about “the hot guy at the office,” including such pertinent details as what he was wearing that day, or if he smiled when he saw her, or – the biggie – if they managed some little bit of conversation when she stopped by his department on her mail route. She felt like a kid with a crush, all over again, but, all things considered, she’d take these burgeoning-on-embarrassing feelings over desolate depression any day of the week.

“Hmm,” Sesshoumaru mused, breaking Kagome from her amused reverie. She glanced up at him from her position on the sofa, curled into her favorite blue blanket. He was sitting next to her in an overstuffed chair, balancing his notebook computer in his lap, his legs propped up on their coffee table and his feet crossed at the ankles. The lights from the TV screen flickered in the relative darkness of the room, catching the highlights in his silver hair.

She granted him a small, contented smile. “What’s up?”

He looked up, as if surprised by her question. She could almost see the gears of his mind turning as he debated whether or not to respond to her idle question, tapping one finger absently on his keyboard. She met his gaze and held it, trying her best to appear encouraging, but not eager. _Baby steps_ , she reminded herself, stifling a yawn.

He looked back at the screen. “It appears my access to the inner workings of Taisho’s system has been cut off,” he replied. “I can’t even get into my email.”

Her brows shot up in amazement. “Whoa,” she breathed. “That’s harsh.”

“More like a clever rouse from my father, no doubt,” he mused. “I was checking some of his files to see if he had any designs on the company we’re looking to acquire at SHK.” He shot her an amused smile. “I suppose he didn’t take too kindly to my snooping around.”

“Hmm,” Kagome murmured, burrowing deeper into the sofa, fighting to keep her eyes open. “What are you going to do?”

“Fight fire with fire,” he replied determinedly, furrowing his brow as he focused on his computer once more.

She drifted off to the soft sounds of fingers tapping on keys and the strains of a silly game show in the background. Sometime later, she awoke with a start, only to find herself in her own bed, the room shrouded in the inky blackness of night. _How did I – ?_ she wondered, struggling to connect her incoherent thoughts as she fumbled to check the time.

She exhaled sharply when she saw the note, propped up in the glow of her alarm clock: _Sweet dreams_ , it read, scrawled in oh-so-familiar handwriting.

~*~

“Do you want to grab something for dinner?” Kagome chirped a few days later, grateful to see the backside of yet another work week. “I’m thinking something with vegetables, maybe? Man can’t live on ramen and pitas alone.”

“Hmm,” grunted her companion, pushing through the double glass doors at the front of the SHK headquarters.

Kagome glanced at him, the now-familiar rush of giddy excitement washing over her. He had been unusually quiet of late, as if something was weighing heavily on his mind. Her heart skipped a beat as she studied him, wondering if he was thinking the same thing she was thinking – about the night he carried her to bed, or maybe even the first time he’d done that, all those months ago…

She felt her skin flush and tingle, only mournful she hadn’t been aware of it the second time around, when she would’ve been sober enough to enjoy it.

“Maybe we could try that new Thai place near the library?” she continued.

“Hmm,” grunted her companion, his eyes focused instead on the sidewalk in front of them.

She glanced around covertly, making sure the coast was clear before slipping her hand around his arm. He didn’t react at all, signaling that he was completely caught up in whatever had hold of his thoughts. Her cheerful smile grew wicked. “Or maybe we should just skip dinner and go straight for dessert?” she suggested.

“Hmm,” grunted her companion, furrowing his brow as he traced his steps.

Her heart pumped furiously in her chest as she gathered her courage to continue her dangerous game. “Or maybe you’d rather go straight home and fuck me senseless,” she proposed in her most seductive tone, tightening her grip on his arm.

He stopped abruptly, sending a sharp glance in her direction, but before he could respond, a voice caught their attention. “Kagome! There you are!”

Sango waved her arms, beckoning to her friend from her spot by the metro stairs. “It’s been ages!” she declared as the pair finally drew within earshot. “Come on, let’s go have a drink somewhere.”

“But – ” Kagome started, only to find herself interrupted for the second time in any many seconds.

“It’s okay,” Sesshoumaru cut in, pulling out of her grasp with relative ease. “I have a stop to make myself.” Before Kagome could protest, he was out of sight, lost in the crowd of people swarming the metro station stairs.

 _Damn_ , she thought, frowning as she lost sight of him. _I guess my mouth still gets the better of me sometimes._

She didn’t have time to follow that particular train of thought, as Sango latched onto her forearm. “Please tell me that isn’t McDreamy from the office,” she pleaded with wide eyes. When all she received was a guilty blush in response, she took action, dragging Kagome down the stairs and onto the metro, uttering the words “not a moment too soon” to herself on more than one occasion.

The girls rode down a few stops, disembarking in a section of the city known for its numerous bars and sushi joints, haunted by university kids for the relative cheapness of both. In spite of her growling stomach, Kagome allowed Sango to steer her into one of the bars and buy her a drink. It was still early yet, and comparably quiet, but Kagome found herself suddenly wary of conversation.

The two sat at one of the turned down tables, nursing their cocktails in silence. Kagome had sense enough to grab a basket of edamame as well, which she promptly laid into. _At least it’s a vegetable_ , she thought to herself, popping the green beans into her mouth.

“Listen, Kagome, I think we should talk about this,” Sango finally said, stirring her straw around her drink.

“About what?” Kagome inquired, knowing full well the avenue her friend was intent on pursuing.

Sango sighed. “I was concerned enough with this constant barrage of texts and emails about this hot guy that worked in your office, who had totally captured you imagination,” she began. “I mean, it sounded like you were rebounding off the deep end on this guy. But then…to find out it’s your _ex_ you’re going gaga over…?”

Kagome shrugged sheepishly. “Well, you know I never really got over him…”

“Yeah, I know,” Sango agreed. “And now I’m doubly concerned.”

“But why?” Kagome asked. “At least I know what I’m getting myself into!”

“Do you?” Sango pressed. “How can you fall for this guy again? After what he did to you?”

“After what _Inuyasha_ did to me, you mean?” Kagome corrected.

“No.” Sango shook her head. “Sesshoumaru’s the one who pushed you away in the first place, by keeping secrets from you. He broke your heart, you told me that yourself! How can you be so sure he won’t do it again?”

Kagome scowled as she drained the rest of her drink. “What _is_ this, an intervention?”

Sango snapped her jaw shut, clenching her hands into fists and taking a deep breath. “Kagome, look, I’m just worried about you,” she finally said, her tone soothing, if concerned. “I know how much of your heart this guy holds, and I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Kagome acknowledged the uneasiness in her friend’s tone with a grateful nod. “Things are different this time,” she assured her. “I’ve learned my lesson, and I’m willing to deal on his terms.”

Sango reached across the table, squeezing Kagome’s hands. “How are things different?” she wanted to know. “From what I can see, he’s blowing you off just like he always has. You can’t give in to that – you deserve better.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what he deal was this afternoon,” Kagome admitted with a shrug. “He was more spacey than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

Sango seized on this little bit of doubt. “See? This is what I’m talking about! You should have someone who’s absolutely devoted to you, and _only_ you. Not someone who makes it a habit to keep secrets from you.”

“He isn’t keeping secrets from me,” Kagome protested. “He is sharing things with me…it’s just on his own timetable.” She nipped Sango’s growing skepticism in the bud, adding, “Look, the last time around, he actively kept things from me. I know this. I admit this. I accept this. But this time, he’s being open, and that’s good enough for me. I know better than to push.”

Sango signaled for another round of drinks. “So he’s regained your trust, just like that, huh?”

“It’s been months,” Kagome reminded her, “so it was hardly ‘just like that.’ And I live with him, so I see him all the time. The truth is in the details, and he’s doing all the little things right.” Their refreshed drinks arrived then, and Kagome took a sip of hers before continuing. “We have tea together, and discuss our days, and fight the traffic…” 

She sighed, allowing her eyes to drift out into the middle distance. “You know that feeling you get, when Miroku’s in the room with you and you’re just reading or watching TV or whatever, and you don’t have the need to fill the silence to feel like you’re not alone?”

Sango nodded, picking at the edamame.

“That’s what it’s like between us now,” Kagome continued. “It’s not awkward anymore, or tense. I don’t feel insecure, or paranoid, or doubtful when I’m around him. I’m learning to read his moods, without my hormones getting in the way, and just…getting to know _him_. I still want him, and _need_ him, as much as I always have – but this is about more than just _my_ needs. I want him to be happy, and I want to be a part of that happiness.”

Sango nodded, chewing her food thoughtfully as she absorbed Kagome’s impromptu speech. “It’s funny,” she said after a beat. “I thought _you_ were the one who needed to hear my concerns, but maybe it was me who needed this.”

Kagome took another sip of her drink. “So this _was_ an intervention?” she contended wryly.

Sango shrugged. “Sort of,” she admitted sheepishly. “I’ve never seen you go all googly-eyed over a guy before, so it was a bit alarming to receive twenty texts a day, detailing the exact color of his socks.”

“Sorry about that,” Kagome apologized, a warm flush coating her cheeks. “I don’t have many girl friends, so I suppose I kinda overload the ones I _do_ have.”

Sango laughed. “Look, it’s no problem,” she assured her. “Let’s make a deal, okay?”

“What sort of deal?”

“The whole crew misses you,” Sango informed her. “If I promise to overlook your constant gushing over this guy for the rest of the summer, _you_ have to promise to come out with us.” She held up her hands, silencing Kagome’s ready protest. “At least once a week,” she proposed with a smile. “Even you, Miss Full-Time Working Girl, can afford _that_.”

Kagome eyed her warily. “Who’s ‘us’?”

“The people from New Year’s, mostly,” Sango replied. “You know, Miroku, Inuyasha, a couple of others – not Kouga, or anybody from his circle. He’s a total douchebag.” She wrinkled her nose. 

Noting Kagome’s continued skepticism, she was fast to address the potentially touchy issue. “You’re friends with Inuyasha, remember? I’m not going to push you two together – but I’m not going to go out of my way to keep you apart, either.” She patted Kagome’s hand. “Besides, I’m sure if you told him what you just told me? He’d understand.” 

_I’m not so sure about that_ , Kagome thought, though she opted not to voice this concern, considering Sango’s seemingly ready defense.

Sango’s lips creased into a knowing smile. “Give him a chance, Kagome. Besides, you might not have to tell him anything.” She shrugged, picking up her glass. “Who do you think tipped me off to a possible identity for this crush of yours?”


	22. Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #06 – “I want to need you.”

**21\. Temptation**

“Hmm,” Sesshoumaru mused, narrowing his eyes as he stared down at the screen of his computer. _Well, isn’t this interesting_ , he thought, eyeing the dark red warning screen that filled his browser. He checked the address once more, just in case he’d made a mistake...but no.

This was the right website.

“What’s up?”

He glanced up, startled from his thoughts by the quiet question. Kagome was lying on the common room sofa, curled into her favorite blue blanket, her body oriented towards the flickering screen of the television to his right, though her eyes were focused on him. His breath caught in the back of his throat as he held her gaze, one finger tapping absently on the keyboard as he mulled over whether or not to answer her question. Truth be told, he hadn’t even realized he’d made an audible noise.

He turned his attention back to the screen. It had been a long day for both of them; he didn’t have the energy to really go into all the details. “It appears my access to the inner workings of Taisho’s system has been cut off,” he finally explained, his tone bemused. “I can’t even get into my email.”

Her brows shot up in amazement. “Whoa,” she breathed. “That’s harsh.”

He shrugged, reaching for the remote to turn down the volume of her chosen variety program. “More like a clever rouse from my father, no doubt,” he continued. “I was checking some of his files to see if he had any designs on the company we’re looking to acquire at SHK.” A small smile rose to his lips as he met her gaze once more. “I suppose he didn’t take too kindly to my snooping around.”

“Hmm,” Kagome murmured, burrowing deeper into the sofa, fighting to keep her eyes open. “What are you going to do?”

“Fight fire with fire,” he replied, furrowing his brow as he focused on his computer once more. _Now I just have to figure out how to do that._

Really, he wasn’t surprised to have the access to his father’s company records cut off; he’d expected about as much after rejecting the offer to take the reins of Taisho Industrial, the company that was to be his inheritance. To accept the company on his father’s terms would’ve meant becoming a pawn in his latest round of power plays – attempting to acquire two different companies at the same time, all so he could retire in a blaze of glory while giving the finger to his biggest competitors. Sesshoumaru found the scheme distasteful, at best, and just shady, at worst.

Besides, the company would’ve been his in name only – and he’d be under his father’s thumb for the rest of his life. That was not the life he had envisioned for himself.

Now that he was working for his father’s biggest competitor, losing confidential privileges was only a matter of time. Being able to cross-reference the records at SHK with those of Taisho Enterprises, the umbrella company, was too big of an advantage for his father not to notice. Still – losing access to his email was something of a shocker. It was his primary source of information from his family, his mother and grandmother included, so losing it meant he was also cut off from them.

Deciding it must’ve been some sort of error, Sesshoumaru maneuvered around the web, checking his other accounts (only to find them in pristine order), before hopping on a proxy and pinging his father’s server again.

No dice.

 _IP block?_ he wondered, quirking a brow. His father’s wrath had never been quite _this_ delayed before. The man was quick with his emotion, be it joy or rage; he rushed to judgment, but was not generally one to carry a grudge. He’d made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that his eldest son was a monumental disappointment, but that opinion had been made known via a series of continual insults, instead of a constant dredging up past misdeeds.

No, if he was only now being blocked from the company websites, that meant he’d committed some new sin that he was, as of yet, unaware of. But if he knew his father, he knew he wouldn’t be waiting for long to hear all about it.

With a sigh, Sesshoumaru turned off the computer and put it aside. He glanced at his watch and grimaced; it was already almost midnight, and seven am rolled around far too early for his liking. Exhaustion cloaked him as he sat there; the long days were beginning to turn into long weeks. His job was more demanding on his time than he’d anticipated; even though he was three weeks into it, he still hadn’t yet fully adjusted.

Before he could give in to his fatigue, he forced himself to stand up, gathering his computer and going back to his bedroom to pack everything up. Every morning minute was precious, and he knew from experience that the better prepared he was at night, the longer he could sleep in the next day. He went about his nightly routine: stowing away his computer and notes, taking inventory of his closet, changing into what passed for pajamas. These early summer nights were warm and sticky; if he still lived alone, he’d have no compunction about sleeping naked.

But, for a roommate, he’d be considerate…

He yawned, remembering said roommate was still out on the sofa. Slipping into the darkened hallway, he pushed ajar the door to her room as he passed by it. The flickering of the television caught his attention as he reentered the room; he tilted his head and folded his arms over his chest as he came to a halt by the sofa. Whatever Kagome had been watching had since been replaced by porn, the usual fodder for all of the television channels once midnight had come and gone. Sesshoumaru found himself singularly unmoved by the happenings on screen; no matter how impressive the positions or ardent the groans, it always looked so cheap and empty.

He cut a glance at the sofa from the corner of his eye. No, if he wanted sex, he wanted the whole, visceral experience.

He turned off the TV with a flick of his wrist, before kneeling next to his sleeping companion. Kagome was on her side, pressed back into the sofa cushions, tucked snugly under the blanket, the tips of her fingers resting next to her cheek. She looked so peaceful in repose, so beautiful, that he felt loath to wake her, but it was not exactly the most comfortable piece of furniture to spend the night on.

“Wake up, Kagome,” he said softly, reaching out to shake her shoulder. “Come on, we both have to get up in the morning.”

She didn’t respond to his gentle ministrations, the rise and fall of her chest continuing in a deep, familiar rhythm.

For a moment, he was torn; it took every fiber of his being to fight what was becoming the most natural instinct whenever they were in such close proximity. How easy it would be to let his hand drift down, to close his arms around her, to gather her close and revel in the indulgence of warm skin against warm skin. Even at the end of a long day, he found her scent enticing, her lips so soft and alluring…

He had no obligation to her, beyond being a considerate roommate, and yet – he found himself unable to just _leave_ her.

She was the worst sort of temptation – one he knew all too well, and wanted even more than that.

His hand slipped from her shoulder, following the curve of her neck until it rest lightly over the side of her face, his fingers drifting into her soft tresses of ebony hair. He turned his studious gaze to her face, half-wondering how he’d managed to find himself into this situation in the first place. Maybe that’s what was most amazing of all: she was so far from his type – romantic or platonic – that it was nothing short of a miracle that they’d gotten along in any capacity! Instead, what had started off as a courteous roommate situation had somehow evolved into so much more…weeks of winter break reminiscence had culminated in a searing New Year’s kiss, which had tipped off the most intense relationship he’d ever been in.

It was very much a case of the right thing happening at the wrong time; he could never quite allow himself to give in to his desire for her, thanks to the all-consuming work on his master’s thesis, as well as the all-consuming guilt he felt over never telling her he intended to take a job with her family’s company. Because of that secret, he’d made an ill-fated choice: his professional ambitions were more important than their romantic relationship, and he wouldn’t use one to further the other – not if it meant hurting her in the process.

Ultimately, this choice proved to be his downfall.

Kagome had always been the more aggressive of the two; it hadn’t taken long for her motivations to become clear. She had no ulterior motive, beyond simply wanting to be with him; it had been a long time indeed since someone had shown such blatant, intense sexual interest in him. She was always touching him, seemingly needing constant, continual physical contact, even via something as innocent as hand-holding. He was most definitely _not_ the touchy-feely type, but somewhere between irritation and desire and lust and need, her touch proved to be just as comforting as it was sensual. 

For Sesshoumaru, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. She was the light to his dark, the bubbly to his solemn, the volatile wildcard in his steady, staid existence. Only now did he realize that he was in love with her, no matter how much he’d denied it at the time, and that above all else, he wanted to protect that. Sleeping with her, with all the secrets and lies strewn between them, would’ve only hurt her, and he couldn’t live with himself, knowing what a violation of trust it would’ve been.

However, she had grown frustrated with his refusal to have sex with her, and ultimately found fulfillment elsewhere. Unfortunately, it had been with his long-estranged half-brother, and the emotional explosion that had followed had not only ended their romantic relationship, and but it had almost broken their tenuous grip on friendship as well.

It was almost laughable, really; it had taken just as long to _move_ past that period in their lives as it had to live through it in the first place.

And yet, it had proved to be a double-edged sword: their fallout had been completely emotional. Perhaps dangerously, their physical attraction had never really waned – and, indeed, was coming back with a vengeance, now that they were becoming comfortable in each other’s presence again.

Sesshoumaru sighed, reluctantly untangling his hand from her hair and reaching for the blanket that covered her. He bit down hard on his lip as he pulled the soft blue fabric away, revealing to him the body he’d once had unlimited access to, implicit permission to touch in any way he’d wanted. Her shirt had ridden up a little bit, exposing the creamy, flat plane of her stomach. He’d never had the pleasure of exploring this particular frontier, beyond a fleeting touch, but temptation was severely testing him now, along with the sight of her delicate white lace panties.

He swallowed hard, refocusing his gaze on her face as he felt every nerve ending in his body catch fire, making his skin flush and constrict.

Breaking up with her – well, such as it was – had been a rather unique experience as well. His previous long-term relationship had ended bitterly, breaking him so badly that he’d withdrawn completely from the social scene, throwing himself into his studies with extra determination. _That_ girl had very much been his type: cool, intelligent, witty, unafraid of using her acidic tongue as the situation demanded. He’d thought she was perfect, a good match to his professionalism and personal ambition. Only too late did he realize that she was only after the power and prestige of his family name; he had given her his heart, only to have it handed back to him on a platter. He’d only been able to heal from that breakup after totally excising her from his life, separating himself completely from anything he’d ever associated with her.

He hadn’t been sure that he’d ever be able to get over her or what she did to him, or find someone with whom he’d ever feel comfortable again…and that’s when Kagome waltzed into his life.

She was different. She didn’t need his money, or power, or the reputation that came along with being a Taisho; she had all that in spades, not to mention a father who truly seemed to have adored her when he was alive. She was his equal, if not his better, in every societal measure. She seemed to understand the pressures of the life he led, even if she, herself, dealt with them differently. It had been so effortless, falling in love with her, opening the door of his heart again after three years of keeping it tightly shuttered…and in the end, they _shared_ the blame for the demise of their romance. She’d sought affection elsewhere, but only because he hadn’t trusted her – not completely; not with the truth.

So when he looked at her now, he didn’t see the woman who cheated on him by sleeping with his brother. No, who he saw was the woman he’d fallen in love with when he didn’t think such a thing was even possible, and the trust they’d _both_ shattered, with all of the lies and misdirection from all angles.

That’s why he wasn’t able to let her go, why he didn’t kick her out of the apartment when it all went down, why he’d offered her friendship at the first opportunity he could. Lust, anger, regret – those were the types of fleeting emotions that evaporated with the passage of time and lapse of memory. Love, however, lingered on, smoldering in hearts, defying logical minds.

He reached for the arm closest to him, draping it over his shoulder with delicate care, his fingers slowly sweeping over the expanse of her smooth, soft skin. Gently, he slipped his arms under her body, securing one behind her back and the other under her knees. Silently, carefully, he lifted her up, turning around and making his way down the darkened hallway. She was a welcome weight in his arms, slowing his stride to a comfortable gait, so that he might savor this moment for as long as possible. He eased open the door to her room, using what little light filtered in from the common room to navigate over to her bed, and he deposited her there in the tangle of sheets and blankets.

The fragrance of her skin met his nose before he realized what he was doing; he sat up abruptly, squeezing his eyes closed as something heavy and somber settled in his chest. He wanted her, and he needed her, but he also wanted to need her, just as she seemed to need him. Their friendship had recovered nicely, and they had steadily grown closer over the last few weeks, but there was no sense of urgency behind her actions. It seemed as if she had separated herself quite neatly from him, respecting the boundaries he had cautiously set. She was close, but not too close, and he was determined to respect that.

His most basic, primal instinct, from the moment she had offered him the internship at her family’s company, was to kiss her whenever she was within such close proximity. That impulse was becoming harder and harder to resist with each passing day. He’d tempted fate once already this evening; he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed holding her in his arms until he was doing it again. But – he knew how precious second chances were, and no matter how much he wanted this, he’d have to do it right. So many other things were warring for his attention now – and he wasn’t about to make her fight that battle again.

All he could hope for now was her patience – 

– yet even he knew the race against time was one men usually ended up losing.

~*~

Sesshoumaru pushed open the double glass doors at the headquarters of SHK a few days later, lost in his own thoughts. Kagome was beside him, chatting happily, but he wasn’t paying attention. Another weekend loomed large, one that would prove to be heavy on the work and light on any relaxation.

 _Goddamn Takeda_ , he groused silently, scowling as he eyed the sidewalk. The junior executive, director of the entire finance department, had taken a curiously special interest in the merger & negotiation division the day Sesshoumaru had started his internship. He’d made it quite plain that he trusted Sesshoumaru about as far as he could throw him, and the feeling was fast becoming mutual. Takeda had made no secret of his contempt for having a Taisho walking among them, and had set about making damn sure Sesshoumaru was every bit as competent as he’d claimed. This wouldn’t have bothered him nearly so much, but the older man had also implied that he was only there by the grace of Kagome’s romantic whims. Not only was that an affront and insult to Sesshoumaru’s credibility, but it also threw a wrench in any notions he had to win back his former girlfriend.

Sesshoumaru was not one to do anything by halves; he didn’t like having to alter his behavior for any reason much less to accommodate a set of circumstances he faced for only a few hours during the day. Nevertheless, he was determined to prove to Takeda – and any others around the office sharing in the whispers – that he was fully capable of doing the job he had been assigned, and that he was there by his own merit.

Even if that meant taking his work home with him.

Suddenly, he became acutely aware of his surroundings when he felt Kagome’s grip tighten over his arm. “Or maybe you’d rather go straight home and fuck me senseless,” she proposed in her most seductive tone, her breath warm against the shell of his ear.

He looked over at her sharply, his entire body going rigid in reaction to the suggestion. _The best laid plans, of mice and men…_

Another voice entered the fray, saving him from having to formulate a coherent response. By the time her friend Sango caught up with them, he’d managed to recover and extract himself from yet another dangerously tempting situation. Kagome was reluctant to let him go, but he insisted, sensing an opportunity to deal with the other issue clogging his mind at present.

Besides Takeda breathing down his throat at work, Sesshoumaru was becoming increasingly concerned about his inability to access his family’s company databases. He’d attempted to reach the corporation’s website from a couple of different computers, only to meet with little to no success. The one time he was able to log into his email, he’d seen a few unread notes from Inuyasha, of all people! That had only served to stoke his curiosity further; he just had a bad feeling about this entire situation...

He hopped on the metro, riding down a few stops to the public library. Once there, he headed down to the basement, where the old study carrels were, and logged into one of the provided computers. He knew library computers were some of the best to use for things like this, as they all shared the same IP address – one that was registered to a public entity, no less. Even if his proxy was busted, the IP wouldn’t be blocked because it wasn’t suspicious.

After a bit of maneuvering, he managed to get back into his corporate – and familial – email account. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the inbox, before clicking on the other folders.

All of them were empty.

The account had been wiped clean.

Mumbling a few choice words to himself, he pulled up another window, typing in an address from memory. Crossing his fingers that the computer would allow him, he managed to download the desired program, into which he quickly fed in his information in order to retrieve the deleted emails. He couldn’t resist a triumphant smile when it worked, and the two unread emails sent from Inuyasha’s account popped up once more.

FROM: The Spare [i.malliard AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
TO: The Heir [s.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]

DATE: 26 May 2009, 23:34

SUBJECT: (no subject)

_I need to talk to you._

-x-

FROM: The Spare [i.malliard AT taishoenterprises DOT com]  
TO: The Heir [s.taisho AT taishoenterprises DOT com]

DATE: 29 May 2009, 04:35

SUBJECT: re: Hidecki

_Come on, S. It’s important! We need to speak ASAP._

 

Sesshoumaru scowled as he read the messages. _You jackass_ , he swore silently. No doubt, if his father had read these messages – as he often did, when email wasn’t sent securely – _this_ was the reason his email access had been cut off. Once Sesshoumaru had rejected his offer to take over Taisho Industrial as a shell, not to mention then turning around and taking a job with his biggest competitor, his father would’ve been remiss to allow him insider knowledge of their plans to acquire Hidecki Financial Group.

Sesshoumaru still didn’t understand what his father wanted with Hidecki. It was a very small fish in their shared pond; from what he could see, all it had going for it was the fact that it had an investment bank, which could potentially come in handy for future merger negotiations with bigger companies. He’d attempted to find out if SHK, comparable in size and market strength to Taisho Enterprises, had put out any feelers for the little holdings company, and thus far, had found nothing. Hidecki wasn’t trading high on the stock market, and, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be doing very modest business.

So what was the lure?

And did he really want to trust Inuyasha to find out?

The boy had proved himself to be little more than their father’s pretty pawn in the past, not to mention he’d been sliming his way back into Kagome’s good graces lately. There was little about his younger half-brother for Sesshoumaru to like, much less _trust_.

Still…

After printing off the retrieved emails, he deleted the program from the computer and turned his attention to another project, one he thought he’d never have to go back to. Digging out a flash drive, he looked through the meticulously dated folders for one, which held all the information on his first-year independent study project, the one he’d completed for first credits towards his master’s degree. For said project, he’d finished all of the background research and grunt work necessary to launch his own, independent trading company. He’d designed everything himself, from the prospectus to the website, and had received the highest possible marks for his work, along with an offhand recommendation from his advisor to hang on to the material, “just in case.” He’d never actually launched the website or put the company in play, but he was only a few mouse clicks away, if necessary.

Considering the knots currently twisting in his stomach, and the curiosity stoked by Inuyasha’s cryptic messages, it seemed like it might become very necessary indeed…

~*~

“Sorry I’m late!” Kagome lamented, gracing her dinner companion with a flirtatious smile.

Sesshoumaru couldn’t resist returning it, the corners of his mouth curving up as he gazed at her. “I didn’t think it was possible to be delayed by shopping,” he replied, before casting a pointed stare through the window at his left. 

Kagome blushed prettily and waved off her friend, who was non-too-conspicuously watching them from a nearby bus bench. “Sorry,” she repeated. “She just wanted to make sure you weren’t a creep.”

Sesshoumaru quirked a brow as he opened his menu. The two were tucked into a side booth at the new Thai place near the library; he had spent his Sunday afternoon working at said library, while she had been out shopping with Sango. He had been surprised, but pleased, when she’d agreed to have dinner with him, especially considering he’d extended the invitation on a whim.

“So, may I ask, what happened last night that required a full day’s gossip session today?” he asked, by way of response, glancing over the top of his menu at his flatmate. Her cheeks were still pleasantly flushed, bringing out the warm tones of her skin, which complemented the dark sheen of her hair as well as the dusty rose of her lips.

She was watching him coyly. “Are you concerned?” she returned, her tone teasingly sweet. “Or just jealous?”

“Merely curious,” he replied calmly. She’d been out with her friends the night before, which had surprised him; she hadn’t lapsed into her party/whirlwind lifestyle since the start of the year – not that he begrudged her the chance to spend time with her friends. She was far more social a creature than he, and he was well aware that she had taken the fallout between them much harder than he had, in isolating herself from said friends. He’d tried to assure himself that whatever had happened was a matter strictly between her and her little circle, but it always made him wary when he knew Inuyasha was involved…

The waiter arrived to take their order. Once their menus were taken away, Kagome reached for his hand across the table. “If you’re so _curious_ ,” she murmured softly, brushing her thumb over his fingers, “you’re welcome to come along next time.”

Warmth spread up the length of his arm from her touch. “I don’t think I’d be welcomed by everyone,” he replied.

Another blush rose to her cheeks, but her answer wasn’t the one he was expecting. “Sango’s just looking out for me. Once she gets to know you, she’ll like you.”

He closed his hand over hers, stilling her nervous fidgeting. “As reassuring as that is,” he mused sardonically, “she’s not the one I was referring to.”

Kagome averted her eyes. “I figured.”

His fingers curled around hers. “Look,” he said softly, meeting her gaze, “you can do whatever you want, with whomever you want.” He shrugged. “You’re not bound to me…we’re just friends.”

“Right,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

A patch of silence stretched out between them; he tightened his grip on her hand, as if to assure her that he also wasn’t going anywhere.

Their food arrived shortly thereafter, but still, neither one let go. 

Kagome cleared her throat. “So,” she tried again, her voice a bit brighter this time, “what have you been up to today?”

“Oh, the usual,” Sesshoumaru sighed. “Takeda is determined to bury me under an avalanche of busywork. He’s made it quite clear that he hates my guts.” He shrugged, picking up his chopsticks. “The feeling is mutual.”

Kagome grimaced. “You’re not the only one,” she muttered sympathetically. “You have no idea how much fun it was to sit in interviews with him for three weeks. Never before have I wanted to gouge someone’s eyes out _just for kicks_.”

Sesshoumaru choked back a laugh. It was nice to hear that someone else felt the same way about him and his perceived power trips. “At least you don’t have him lording over you all day, every day,” he contended.

“No, my boss is pretty cool,” Kagome admitted, smiling again after swallowing a mouthful of food. “She lets us hang out anywhere in the building, as long as we get our routes finished on time.” She paused for a meaningful beat. “ _Anywhere_.”

His heart began to pump a little faster. “Well, unfortunately, Takeda’s the reason…” he trailed off, allowing his gaze to fall to their still-joined hands. “He thinks you’re the only reason I’m there.”

She considered his words thoughtfully. “I suppose, in some ways, I am,” she replied with a slight shrug, trailing her thumb across the backs of his fingers. “After all, I’m the one who cast the deciding vote for your position.”

He looked up sharply, his eyes locking onto hers. “But you said you weren’t going to help me,” he sputtered incredulously. “Why – ?”

“Because you were the best choice for the job,” she interrupted, squeezing his hand.

 _Fuck Takeda_ , he swore silently, still gazing at Kagome in amazement. _Fuck him and the prejudicial horse he rode in on._

“Um,” she choked out, her face turning the color of ripe tomatoes under his intense study, “so Takeda’s work kept you busy all day? Damn, that’s a lot of work!”

“Well, no,” he admitted, dropping his eyes to his food. “I’m also reviving an old project of my own.”

She latched onto the idea, only too happy to move past the awkwardness of the moment. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, spearing a piece of meat with one of his chopsticks. “I have reason to suspect that my father is up to something, and I simply want to be prepared.”

“Care to share?” she asked, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

He shrugged. “You’re just going to have to trust me,” he replied.

Her expression closed slightly. “Don’t you trust me?”

He lifted his now-loaded chopsticks to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “Have you given me a reason not to?”

She sat back in her seat, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she ate. The waiter came back, clearing their dishes – a move which finally forced their hands apart – and left the check. They continued to sit at the table for a few moments after paying; Sesshoumaru found himself growing slightly uncomfortable under her assessing stare.

“I wonder about you sometimes,” Kagome finally said, sliding out of the booth and picking up her shopping bags. 

When no explanation was forthcoming, Sesshoumaru couldn’t resist drawing her out. “How do you mean?” he asked, holding the door of the restaurant open for her.

When they were both out on the sidewalk, she surprised him by suddenly turning around, dropping her bags to her sides, and pressing her mouth to his. His entire body rocked with surprise, but – mercifully – she lingered long enough to let him respond. As his hands found her waist, she pulled away, her smile as enigmatic as her previous statement had been. “So there is a man lurking under that façade,” she whispered coyly.

Before he could respond, another voice sliced through the air. 

“Hey! We need to talk.”

The pair turned, Sesshoumaru taking a step forward as the unwelcome interloper drew closer to their spot on the sidewalk. “What the hell do _you_ want?” he sneered coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

Inuyasha cast a glance at Kagome before facing his brother again. “Like I said – we need to talk.”


	23. Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #18 – “I pity you.”

**22\. Crisis**

_Dammit, Inuyasha_ , Kagome swore silently, wincing when Sesshoumaru stiffened with anger beside her. _You really have a sense of timing, don’t you?_

Her stomach twisted into a knot of dread as Inuyasha approached, on calm and determined feet, and she found her eyes falling away from her companion, toward the ground. _I knew this was a mistake_ , she thought swiftly. _It wasn’t supposed to happen like this!_

“What the hell do _you_ want?” Sesshoumaru intoned coldly.

Her heart dropped to the lower reaches of her stomach; he was very definitely _not_ happy with this sudden turn of events.

“Like I said,” Inuyasha replied tersely, “we need to talk.”

 _Please_ , Kagome pleaded silently, watching Inuyasha’s boots draw ever closer, _don’t tell him how you found us_.

It was why she’d been late for this particular dinner; she’d hemmed and hawed and hesitated over the decision to relay their location to Inuyasha. He’d spent the better portion of the night before, during her weekly night on the town with her friends, pleading with her to help him figure out a way to talk with his brother. _“It’s urgent,”_ he’d told her, practically begging by that point. _“Please, Kagome – you know if I could contact him in any other way, I would.”_

She’d realized that, whatever it was Inuyasha was so desperate to tell Sesshoumaru, it had to be pretty damn important if he was bugging _her_ about it. After all, she’d made him swear he wouldn’t use her to get to Sesshoumaru any longer, as the most important term underlying the renewal of their friendship. And so, she figured there was little harm in texting him after receiving Sesshoumaru’s invitation to dinner, telling him at which restaurant they’d be. If anything, a public place meant neutral ground, and less of a chance of an ugly scene erupting. 

But she hadn’t expected Sesshoumaru to be so attentive, to hold her hand through the course of the meal, or for the conversation to be pleasant and flirtatious and oh, so promising. She’d finally managed to relax halfway through it, confident that if Inuyasha hadn’t shown his face by then, he wasn’t going to. And then she’d promptly forgotten all about it, under the rush of coy euphoria and a sated stomach, and she’d given in to impulse and kissed him, and she was _so close_ , damn it –

– that _of course_ Inuyasha would choose that moment to make himself known.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Sesshoumaru declared, garnering Kagome’s attention once more. She shivered at the strength of the ice in his voice, inwardly despairing when she saw his eyes narrow and his lips thin as he took in the sight of his reviled half-brother.

Inuyasha bristled, clearly affected by his chilly tone as well. “Well, maybe I have something to say to you,” he shot back, halting abruptly a few feet from where they stood, just beyond arm’s reach.

“Hmph,” Sesshoumaru grunted, clearly unimpressed. “Have you nothing better to do with your time than follow me around?”

That brought Inuyasha up short. “What?”

Sesshoumaru smiled grimly, the corners of his lips barely lifting. “How did you know I was here?” he demanded, rephrasing his question bluntly, if not cruelly.

Kagome seized, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her teeth, cringing in anticipation of some of this malice being directed her way, undoing all of the good and amazing that had built up over the course of the evening. 

Luckily for her, Inuyasha had the everlasting grace to dodge his brother’s query. “What the hell does it matter?” he challenged instead. “If you had just answered my emails, we wouldn’t be having this pleasant conversation right now.”

“And how do you propose I answer email that I don’t have access to?” Sesshoumaru countered.

Once again, Inuyasha looked confused. “What?” he bit off, frustration spiking in his voice. “What are you talking about? I know I sent them to you.”

“But did it ever occur to you that I might not receive them, you _gaijin_ son of a bitch?” Sesshoumaru returned in clipped tones.

When all Inuyasha could do was stare back stupidly, Sesshoumaru heaved an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been cut off, you idiot! From my corporate email account, from the whole damn family website, from _everything_. And it’s all because of you, and your patented inability to send important information via secure connection!” 

_Shit, shit, shit_ , Kagome thought, taking a step back. The air was thick with tension, and she had the distinct impression that they were merely at the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. She’d never seen Sesshoumaru so angry – and he was definitely _angry_ , way past mere irritation or mild upset, headed straight for total volcanic eruption – even if said emotion was buried under a calm, impassive exterior. The little things gave him away – the murderous slant of his nearly-closed eyes, the way his hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides, the absolutely rigid stance of his posture – little details she could only hope Inuyasha was also picking up on, lest he continue to goad him needlessly. 

“Or maybe you’re not completely incompetent,” Sesshoumaru murmured a moment later, relaxing his stance imperceptibly, though his posture was still guarded as he continued to size up his rival. “Maybe you’re still following Daddy’s orders, like a good little boy. Did he put you up to this?”

“Now why would he do that, instead of taking the pleasure of humiliating you personally?” Inuyasha sneered. “You know what your problem is, Sesshoumaru? You’re way too paranoid.”

Kagome made a grab for Sesshoumaru when he advanced upon his brother, but he was out her reach before she could stop him.

“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, brushing past Inuyasha none-too-subtly.

“Then I suggest you _make_ time,” Inuyasha grumbled in response, his eyes following his brother’s every move as he passed. “You think this is a social call? This shit is important.”

Sesshoumaru pivoted, leveling the coldest, darkest glare at Inuyasha that Kagome had ever seen. “I loathe you with every fiber of my being,” he declared, his voice preternaturally calm. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t even want to _look_ at you. I want nothing to do with you. So I’m only going to say this one more time: leave. me. _alone_.”

With that, he turned on his heel and continued down the deserted sidewalk.

“You’re just walking straight into his trap!” Inuyasha called after him, but Sesshoumaru paid him no heed.

“Dammit,” Inuyasha swore under his breath.

“Dammit, Inuyasha!” Kagome cried, picking up her shopping bags and lobbing them at his shoulder as he turned to face her once more. “What the hell was that for?!” She didn’t give him a chance to respond before barreling on. “I thought you wanted to _talk_ to him!”

“Hey!” Inuyasha cried, throwing up his hands to deflect any further blows. “It’s not my fault he’s a stubborn jerk!”

“You didn’t have to _provoke_ him!” she argued. “Christ, Inuyasha! Stop making me regret ever helping you!”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Kagome,” he apologized. “I think we both know my very existence is enough to provoke him.”

He shook his head and heaved another sigh. “It all makes sense, though,” he mused aloud, more to himself than her. “I had no idea he’d be cut out of company communications – but that _definitely_ makes sense.”

Kagome threw up her hands. “What is going on, Inuyasha?” she asked, irritated. “If you didn’t come here to fight with him, then _what the fuck_ was so important that you had to crash one of our dates?”

Heat flooded his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I had to warn him,” he said simply. “Our father is making a move, and he’s setting Sesshoumaru up to take the fall.”

Kagome could only stare at him in utter disbelief. Whatever she’d expected him to say, this was certainly not it. “Are you sure?” she breathed.

Inuyasha nodded solemnly, rocking back on his heels. “Sesshoumaru’s latest rebellion? Rejecting the reigns of Taisho Industrial in order to take a job at SHK, Taisho’s biggest rival? That will be his _last_ rebellion, if our father has his way.”

Kagome shrugged helplessly. “I don’t understand.”

Inuyasha was silent for a long moment before taking her elbow and guiding her down the sidewalk, in the opposite direction from Sesshoumaru’s retreat. “Do you know why I came to this country?” he asked abruptly.

Kagome started at the sudden change in subject. “Because your mother died,” she replied. _What does this have to do with anything?_ she wondered warily.

He nodded, indicating a bench situated under an illuminated street lamp. They sat, Kagome taking her shopping bags into her lap. “Right,” he confirmed. “When my mother died, my father came for me, just like she always said he would.”

His lips curved up into a slight smile. “She idolized him,” he said, his eyes growing misty as memories rushed back. “When I was little, she used to tell me stories about him – about how he was this great, wonderful, kind superhero, and that’s why he wasn’t around much – because he had to look after the whole world, not just me.” He shrugged. “She used to tell me, ‘even though he’s not here, he’s always looking out for you.’”

Kagome averted her gaze for a moment, unable to take in the striking sadness with which he was relaying these recollections.

“As I grew older, the stories became a bit more complex,” he continued. “No longer the sort of hero that fulfilled childish dreams, he morphed into a secret agent, working undercover in Japan, ferreting out the bad guys – you know, spies and traitors and stuff.” He shrugged. “He could never come home to us, because that would blow his cover, and he’d be injured, or kidnapped, or worse. I missed him, of course, but something in those stories comforted me. And he always remembered my birthday – he always sent me a card, with a super secret note inside, and sometimes it’d take me and _ma mere_ days to decode. But it was always worth it, and I cherished those notes so much, because it meant he still thought about us, about _me_ , even though he wasn’t there.”

“I didn’t actually meet him until a few days after my mother died…and, amazingly, he was everything she’d promised he’d be. He was so loving and thoughtful and caring.” He sighed, lifting his gaze to the middle distance. “I remember the day he finally showed up at our house – it was right before her funeral, in fact – but he walked through that front door like I’d imagined so many times in my childhood, and he grabbed me up in a big hug, and he just held me and let me cry, like he’d never been away a day in my life.”

Kagome furrowed her brow. “But I thought you didn’t want to come to this country,” she mused quietly, in deference to the conflicting emotions he was struggling through. She herself was remembering what it was like when her father died, how raw and vulnerable she’d felt, and tried to imagine how difficult it would’ve been without the support of her extended family.

He chuckled, but it sounded forced and sad. “I didn’t,” he agreed. “I didn’t want to leave my grandparents – my mother’s parents, who had helped take care of her when she was sick. And they didn’t want me to go either, but my father insisted.” He folded his arms across his chest. “They begged me not to go, but he _wanted me_ , you know? After so long – and he was going to take care of me, just like my mother promised he would.”

Inuyasha’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “It wasn’t until we landed in Japan than I learned he had a whole other family,” he continued, his tone taking a decidedly bitter, almost strident course. “His wife – Sesshoumaru’s mother – met us at the airport, and she had such a disapproving expression. ‘I won’t raise him as my own,’ she’d declared, right in my face, like I wasn’t even there. ‘I already have a son, and so do you.’”

“Ouch,” Kagome murmured sympathetically.

He shrugged. “Yeah, the rest of the family wasn’t so nice, either. Sesshoumaru hated me from the moment he first laid eyes on me, but our father just took it all in stride. He told me they’d warm up to me as they got to know me, and that I was just as much a part of _his_ family as his wife or his mother or his other, older son. And you know what? That was _enough for me_ , because it meant I still had a parent to love me. My mother died a horrifically painful death, and I never thought I’d know that sort of love again.”

Kagome swallowed hard, choosing her words carefully. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, and all the upheaval you went through after your mother’s death, but what does this have to do with what’s going on right now?”

“Do you remember when I left school in November?” he asked, earning an affirmative nod. “That was because my father pulled me out of university, saying he had a very special project for me to work on, for his company.” Inuyasha ruefully shook his head. “If I had known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have done it…”

“But?” Kagome prompted.

“But he was offering me a spot at Taisho Enterprises, and from what little I could get out of Sesshoumaru, I knew it was a Big Deal. Father just told me Sesshoumaru was jealous, because he lacked the natural charm and charisma of the Taisho men, but I had it in spades.” Inuyasha couldn’t help the proud smile that broke his unhappy expression at that. “And he set me on your path.”

He barreled on before she could react to that little revelation. “I’ve always liked you, Kagome. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he told her. “And if this gave me an excuse to pursue you, well. I was going to take it.” 

Kagome’s gaze fell to her feet. She could feel the blood draining from her face. “So what changed?”

“Everything,” he replied with a sigh, lifting both hands palm-side up in the air. “Everything, all at once. You and Sesshoumaru broke up, but you and I never got together. Sesshoumaru rejected our father’s offer to take over the very company that was to be his inheritance, the one he’s been gunning for forever. He also beat me out for the internship at SHK, effectively slamming that door in my face – especially in my chances with you, as well as any larger goals my father had, aimed at SHK itself.”

“And you realized he was more than a spoiled brat with an entitlement complex?” she mused sarcastically.

To her ultimate surprise, Inuyasha shook his head sadly. “Not until I saw my father’s reaction to his rebellion. When he published that article in the paper, splashed all across the front page of the finance section, I started to wonder – why?”

“I remember that,” Kagome cut in, nodding as she drew the memory to mind. “Sesshoumaru showed it to us, during his interview for the internship. It may very well have been what changed some of the department managers’ minds.”

“That’s what my father was counting on, I think,” Inuyasha said grimly. “Because he changed tactics, almost as soon as Sesshoumaru stormed out of his office.”

“How do you mean?” Kagome pressed.

Inuyasha scowled. “Let me make sure I get this right,” he said, frowning a bit. “He wanted Sesshoumaru to take over Taisho Industrial, so that he – our father – could make two bids for two different companies at once. I’m not completely sure how it works, but apparently it’s some legal loophole, or something. Well, now he’s shifted course – he’s going to buy up Hidecki Financial Group, and then he’s going after SHK.”

Kagome’s heart began to pump a little harder at this sinister mention of her family’s company.

“But the thing is, he’s going to make it look like an inside job. He published that article in the paper so that Sesshoumaru might more easily get his foot in the door at SHK – so that way, when Taisho Enterprises makes a winning, uncontested bid to take over the company, it looks like he has an inside man,” Inuyasha explained. “In the _mergers department_ , no less.”

Kagome’s jaw dropped. “You have _got_ to be kidding me,” she sputtered incredulously.

Inuyasha shook his head, disgusted. “I wish I was. I can’t believe my father is using Sesshoumaru’s ambition and turning it against him like this, making him complicit in an act he doesn’t even know about. After it all goes down, he’s counting on Sesshoumaru being fired from his position at SHK, and he’s going to cut him out of the will, leaving him high and dry in order to make him pay for crossing swords with him like this.”

Kagome could only stare at him in absolute disbelief. “Are you sure about this?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes,” Inuyasha sighed, a note of rejection in his voice. “I’ve seen the memos; I’ve overheard the conversations. My first clue was when he didn’t give _me_ any power at Taisho Industrial, after Sesshoumaru blew him off. He effectively cut me out of the loop when I failed to deliver SHK, just like Sesshoumaru, and I became suspicious.”

“That meeting about Taisho Industrial was an eye-opener,” he continued. “I saw the way he treated Sesshoumaru then – hell, half the time I think they forgot I was even in the room – and then I saw what he was willing to do when his own plans were thwarted by another’s ambition. When I realized that he was willing to treat his son like that – _the son he’d raised and acknowledged and made his heir_ – that’s when I realized…he wasn’t the man _ma mere_ described.” 

He choked back a shaky breath. “I realized – he didn’t love me. He didn’t want me. He _needed_ me, and for only one specific purpose. And now that said purpose is no more? I’m not treated any better than Sesshoumaru.” He averted his head and scrubbed at his eyes, as if he didn’t want Kagome to see him cry. “If I had one thing going for me, it was that he always treated me better than he treated Sesshoumaru.”

Kagome’s mouth opened and closed several times as this shocking turn of events sank in. “This is unreal,” she breathed. “Even if all of this is true – God, _especially_ if all of this is true – why do you want to help Sesshoumaru?! He hates your guts!”

“Yeah, well, I’m not too fond of him, either,” Inuyasha muttered, “but even that jackass doesn’t deserve this. The way I see it, right now, he’s the lesser of two evils, and by helping him, I’ll further my own goal.”

“Which is?”

Inuyasha looked at her, his emotions written plainly across his features. “I want to go home,” he admitted softly. “I want to go back to France, to live with my grandparents. I want to be with people who love me, and not just use me.” He dropped his gaze. “I never should’ve left them in the first place.”

Kagome felt herself still reeling from this continuous barrage of information. “Forgive me for being a dunce,” she murmured, “but I’m just not connecting all the dots here. Helping Sesshoumaru means you get to go home?”

Inuyasha gave a bitter snort. “Considering the way our father treats the child _he raised from birth_ for defying him? I doubt he’ll have any compunction about sending me back to France for aiding in Sesshoumaru’s rebellion – especially if we manage to be victorious against him.”

“Jeez, you’re really willing to fall on your sword here,” Kagome observed incredulously.

Inuyasha laughed, genuinely this time. “That part isn’t for Sesshoumaru,” he relented. “It’s for you.” He reached out, cupping one of her hands in his. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Kagome, and you have no idea how truly sorry I am that I fucked it all up. I love you, _ma chérie_ , but I want you to be happy. And if Sesshoumaru makes you happy…”

He trailed off, squeezing her hand gently before letting it go. “I saw you two tonight, sitting in that restaurant,” he confessed softly. “I saw the way you looked at him, the way you held his hand the entire time…and that’s why I didn’t go in when I arrived.” 

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze to the ground in front of them. “You deserve to be happy.”

The two sat in silence, following the revelation of this little piece of truth. Inuyasha rested his arms against his thighs and leaned forward, his head bowed, as if it was hard for him to look at her, knowing she could never admit these same sweet feelings for him. For her part, Kagome could only stare, watching as the gentle night breeze lifted the dark tendrils of his hair, and wonder: if she hadn’t met his brother first…if he hadn’t already stolen her heart…could she love this man before her now? She understood the depth and breadth of his feelings, almost painfully, because _this_ was how she felt about Sesshoumaru.

She reached out hesitantly, wishing she had some way to reassure him – or even thank him for such an impromptu gesture – but then she remembered the pang of rejection she’d felt when her relationship had fallen apart, and realized the last thing he needed right now was more pain, on top of everything else he was going through.

She eased her hand back into her lap. “And it’s my company,” she said out loud, her voice slicing through the air.

“Hmm?” Inuyasha lifted his head, sliding a glance her way.

“SHK – it’s my family’s company,” Kagome clarified.

Inuyasha shrugged. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Another reason to figure out a way to foil my father’s plans.”

Kagome looked at him thoughtfully. “Sesshoumaru already thinks your father is up to something. He told me as much at dinner tonight.”

Inuyasha sat up fully, clasping his hands in his lap. “Ah, but he doesn’t trust me, and he probably never will,” he reminded her. “He told me that he wants nothing to do with me, remember?”

Kagome straightened, the wisp of an idea floating into her mind. “Do you trust _me_?”

Inuyasha looked at her, confusion creasing his brow at the sudden shift in topic. “What? Of course I do.”

Her gaze met his, wide and serious. “Then let me be your go-between,” she suggested.

“Between me and Sesshoumaru?” He regarded her skeptically. “I don’t know, Kagome – this is our beef, not yours.”

“But ultimately, it’s _my_ company that’s in danger,” she reminded him. “I have a vested interest in this information, too. SHK has been in my family for six generations, and I’m not going to be the one responsible for losing it.”

“No one would blame you,” Inuyasha argued.

Kagome shook her head. “Yes they will – especially if they believe that Sesshoumaru is the one who destroyed it.”


	24. Covenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #13 – “I want to hurt you.”

**23\. Covenant**

If there was one thing Sesshoumaru prided himself on, it was his absolute sense of self-control.

The others already occupying the seats on the metro as he boarded would have merely seen a tall, thin, silver-haired young man, dressed in an elegant suit and carrying a computer bag. Those curious enough to direct their gaze at him would have noted his expression was cool, calm, collected, almost guarded – perhaps not unlike the ones they themselves wore in such an impersonal environment.

Yes, to the outside world, he appeared to be just like any other twenty-something headed home for the evening.

But on the inside, he was burning.

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he stared straight ahead, bracing himself against one of the poles as the train barreled forward. Anger – irritation – white hot _rage_ burned through his chest, riding an undercurrent of raw need as it seared down his spine, bringing every nerve ending in his body to strict attention. His vision was beginning to bathe in red, blurring beyond the advertisements and metro maps that dotted the sides of the car, and he found himself hanging on by the very last thread of social conformity.

It simply was not _done_ , this notion of making a show of derision in public, even in the midst of the crowded, noisy metro.

So he clamped it all down, swallowing hard, clenching white-knuckled fists around the strap of his bag.

 _Of course it would come to this_ , he thought crossly. _Of course it would be the very moment when I finally got what I wanted that that asshole would swoop in to destroy it_. His lips thinned as the memory faded into the back of his mind – of Kagome’s sweet, surprising kiss, unlocking the reserve of love and lust and desire that he’d attempted, rather successfully up until that point, to restrain when he was around her – of Inuyasha’s obnoxious, sudden announcement of his presence – of the heated words the two exchanged before Sesshoumaru removed himself from the situation, lest he say – or do – something he’d wind up regretting. It was the creation of a perfect storm, being yanked from one set of swirling emotions straight into another, from love to hate in a split second – and for once, Sesshoumaru found himself singularly unable to deal with it.

He wasn’t sure whom he despised more in that moment, as the metro screeched to a halt at his stop – his brother, for showing up when he did and ruining a moment he’d been working toward for so long, or himself for finally, totally, completely losing it in response.

He climbed the steps to the surface slowly, methodically, masking the war of emotion that plagued his gut under his patented, perfected impassive expression. No one else could hear the rush of his blood in his ears, the violent beating of his heart against his ribs, or the way his breath was short and sharp in his chest. As many traits as he inherited from his father, this ability to order and control his world came directly from his mother, the veritable ice queen. She would’ve taken one look at his reaction back there on the sidewalk and simply shaken her head, disappointed that he’d allowed even some small measure of restraint to slip from his grasp.

Quietly he slipped into his apartment, locking the door behind him before heading straight for his bedroom and doing the same. He threw his bag in his chair before heading for the shelf where his stereo system lived. With a quick check of the CD changer, he flipped the power, turning the volume all the way up a moment before his selections blasted from the surround-sound speaker system.

He stood there for a moment, soaking in the angry, throbbing beat of the bass line. This was his way of shouting, swearing, stomping his feet and throwing things – he blasted the heaviest, darkest music he could stand, until his heartbeat fell in cadence with the drum tracks, the bass rippling down his back, the wails of the guitar making the walls shimmer under their high-pitched riffs. Industrial rock from Germany, death metal from Scandinavia, heavy metal from America – it didn’t matter; the louder, the darker, the better. He held a special place in his heart for Nine Inch Nails, something he broke out when he was feeling particularly at the end of his rope, and _With Teeth_ spun now, galling and guttering him.

Never before could he quite put into words just how much he hated his European half-sibling, but that obnoxious stunt he’d pulled tonight had been the definitive final straw. Sesshoumaru didn’t give a damn how Inuyasha had found him, only that he had, and he had chosen that exact moment to announce his presence with the sort of gall only their mutual parent possessed. He had been loath to even _look_ at him, this abomination forced into his life only a year prior, and Inuyasha had only made things worse for himself by even daring to even glance in Kagome’s general direction while in his brother’s presence. Sesshoumaru thought him little better than pond scum prior to their abrupt confrontation tonight, but in that moment, he’d managed to downgrade his opinion. 

_If he thinks he’s even coming near her while I’m around…_ Sesshoumaru clinched his fists as Reznor let out a perfectly-timed guttural scream.

Truthfully, however, his hatred of that jackass ran deeper than mere possessive jealousy. Inuyasha’s final words reverberated in his mind now as he threw himself down on his bed: _“You’re just walking straight into his trap!”_ So the little jerk was on a mission from their father – what a shocker. And it wasn’t like his revelation was all that groundbreaking, either. Did his father honestly think him stupid enough _not_ to realize he was up to something? Cutting him off from the family company had been a pretty damn big clue.

He was too upset to clearly think through the logistics of his father setting Inuyasha on his path once more, but it was just as well: at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to revel in the darkness of his current mood, to fantasize about what it would’ve been like to close his hands around his brother’s neck and squeeze, until that stupid, cloying, almost pitying look drained out of his face. _How dare that son of a bitch think he has reason enough to pity me_ , he thought menacingly, his hands flexing into fists at his sides as the deafening beats of the music droned on around him. _I would find it pathetic if not for the fact that it pissed me off so much._

And, really, perhaps that was what his father was counting on. The man of a thousand schemes, Taisho Senior was always ready and willing to change course when he found himself thwarted from his goal. He’d spent his entire career building up his company portfolios in just that manner, switching midstream whenever something stopped working for him, riding his shameless ambition as far as he possibly could in the cutthroat world of finance. He worked night and day, around the clock, only incorporating what others might consider ‘vacations’ when it suited his needs, schemes, or plans. The impromptu trip back to France over the previous summer had raised his heretofore only son’s suspicions; though shocked and disgusted by the revelations in the wake of his father’s return, Sesshoumaru was decidedly not surprised to learn of his half-brother’s existence, nor the fact that his father had been squirreling away money for his care for the better part of the last two decades. 

But the discovery of Inuyasha’s existence _had_ cut him to the core, affecting him more – and differently –than it possibly could have his mother or grandmother. Suddenly, it made _sense_ , the way his father had always treated him during his childhood; he realized then just who it was that he was being compared to so unfavorably. He watched as his father lavished this young half-French child with the same love and affection he’d been denied, this being who barely deserved to be alive as far as Sesshoumaru was concerned, and he burned with hatred and disbelief. What made Inuyasha so special, the apparent apple of his father’s eye? What had this mutt been able to do that he – the only _legitimate_ son and heir – had not, to earn such easy smiles and patient explanations? It mollified him, somewhat, when he realized that for all the affection being showered on the boy, even he hadn’t earned their father’s respect for his accomplishments; how plain it was to see through his father’s ruthless manipulations, the way he made Inuyasha dance on a string in hopes of earning that very same thing that he, Sesshoumaru, desired most of all – his father’s confidence and admiration.

How bitterly ironic, indeed, that he sought validation from someone he resented.

Maybe that’s why and how he came to form his master plan for wrestling control of his inheritance; his father had continually threatened to cut him out of the will, and he was none too pleased when, upon offering that very same company – Taisho Industrial – to Sesshoumaru out of the blue a few months ago, his elder son rejected it, seeing the bait for what it was. To accept would mean ceding control, acquiescing power, forever living under his father’s command and in his shadow. 

Instead, Sesshoumaru had taken matters into his own hands, applying for and gaining an internship at their biggest rival’s firm – the company that just so happened to belong to his housemate (and ex-girlfriend). It was the revelation of this fact, along with his absolute unwillingness to violate her honor and grub for the position he desired, that had led to their explosive breakup in the first place. Inuyasha had played a key part in the scheme to break them up, one devised by his father for his own ends (or, perhaps, merely his own amusement)…and that gave Sesshoumaru little confidence that his jerk of a half-brother wasn’t walking down that road again, armed with another plan of his father’s making. After all, his father was nothing if not resourceful, and he had been grooming Inuyasha for the last year in his slick, manipulative ways.

The only surprising twist, Sesshoumaru surmised silently, was that his father was playing the same hand twice in a row. Was it possible, in his old age, that he was becoming _predictable_?

 _Perish the thought_ , he mused sarcastically, rolling to his side and pulling the duvet over his still fully-clothed body. The music continued to pound through his speakers, as loud and angry as it had been an hour ago, yet Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, exhaustion finally creeping over him, cocooning around his turbulent, fleeting emotions.

It was not the first time he’d gone to bed angry, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, but sleep was a welcome respite from his rage, his frustration, and most of all, his ultimate feeling of helplessness.

~*~

Morning rolled around all too soon for him. Sesshoumaru cracked his eyes open, staring dully at the alarm clock that chirped rather insistently at his bedside. He mustered up the energy to slap it silent before sitting up, cradling his head in his hands. His neck was stiff and his skin was scratchy from sleeping in dress clothes, but all in all, he felt worlds better than he had the evening before. He leaned back against his pillows, breathing deeply as the rest of his senses roused, and he became aware of the low, pulsating hum emanating from a nearby speaker.

 _Shit_ , he thought, closing his eyes again, _I hope the music didn’t bother Kagome_.

He allowed himself another moment of silence before sliding from the bed and undressing. He went through his normal morning routine with relative ease: showering, dressing, preparing himself for the start of another work week. The day had dawned dark and gloomy, mirroring his mood to perfection.

As per usual, he was the first up and about; he settled his things at the kitchen table before moving to the stove to warm the kettle for tea. It amused him, faintly, how much of a tea drinker he had become in her presence, the ritual as soothing as its caffeine was necessary to start the day. It was something he’d done when she’d left unexpectedly over the winter holiday because it reminded him of her; now, it was something they shared – something special and precious and all too easy to take for granted.

He prepared his cup and sat down at the table, contemplating his breakfast options as he waited for his roommate to rise. She wasn’t exactly punctual anyway, but he found himself pulled from his thoughts when he realized he was almost through his first cup and she still hadn’t shown. A knife of worry sliced through his gut – _what if she hadn’t come home last night?_ – and he suddenly realized that he’d just _left_ her there last night, standing on the sidewalk with Inuyasha while he escaped.

After she’d kissed him. After he’d embraced her, only too eager for more.

He sighed. _So close, and yet, so far…_

“Morning,” came a soft voice.

He glanced up sharply, a wave of relief rolling over him when he noticed her standing in the doorway. His eyes travelled down the length of her and back. Summer had arrived, warm and sticky and humid, and Kagome’s outfits had diminished from full Prada suits to skimpier Chanel separates, as the weather dictated. Today she was wearing a sleeveless silk blouse over a dark miniskirt, one that flared just below her hips, causing his heart to steadily gain traction in his chest when he caught sight of her long, lean legs.

But by the time his eyes returned to hers, he realized that she was looking away from him, eyes downcast, worrying the edge of her lower lip with her teeth. He frowned. A patch of awkward silence stretched between them as she stood, and he sat, neither one of them speaking or, indeed, quite knowing what to do.

What was there to say, after all? The last time they’d been alone together, they could barely keep their hands off each another. Words hardly seemed necessary then, but now…

He felt a sharp pang of guilt as he watched her cross the room, her eyes trained on the window above the kitchen sink; she began to fidget with the hem of her skirt, a nervous habit she’d never quite been able to break while in his presence, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to have sex with her. Visions of the deed overtook his mind – touching her, tasting her, feeling every curve of her body flush against his – and he tore his gaze away, staring into his nearly empty tea cup. Who the hell was he to be entertaining such thoughts, after leaving her stranded with his asshole of a brother the night before?

His eyes widened as his heart skipped a beat – _that same asshole she’d already slept with once_ – 

“It’s raining,” Kagome announced, completely oblivious to the emotional rollercoaster he was currently on, attempting to rein in his baser urges while she blathered on about the weather. He managed to collect himself before she turned to face him, hope and curiosity shining in her eyes.

“Does this mean you’ll drive today?”

He nodded once. “As promised,” he answered cautiously, watching her carefully, another storm of unwelcome emotion gathering in his chest. Never before had so much hinged on the presence or absence of her smile, and he found his world hanging in the balance, threatening to tilt off its axis and repay him for all of his dark thoughts from the night before. Here was his karma, coming back to bite him: it was rather difficult to lust after someone who looked so unhappy. He loved her, and he wanted her (badly), but just as before, he was loath to hurt her. And if he’d inadvertently done that yesterday, well…

Add that to the long list of situations he didn’t want to deal with.

A small, pretty smile finally curved her lips, but she appeared guarded as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Good,” she replied. “I’m ready when you are.”

He nodded again, draining the last of the lukewarm tea, and stood, crossing the room to rinse out his cup. He was slightly perturbed when she moved at the exact same time, as if she didn’t want to be near him, though she had merely gone after her jacket and purse, which she’d put on the table next to his things. She looked back at him expectantly, but his mind didn’t ease this time; he furrowed his brow as he studied her.

“We don’t want to be late,” she said, rather blandly, and he shrugged, realizing the battle was lost. 

They rode together in silence, Sesshoumaru concentrating on the road while Kagome stared out the passenger’s side window of his car, her mind seemingly a million miles away. Though they sat mere inches from each other, they might as well have been on opposite sides of the planet, and for the first time since rekindling their friendship, Sesshoumaru despaired. He’d made a horrible mistake, leaving her alone with Inuyasha; why could he only see that now? After all, the two of them had an even more intimate past than the one he shared with her, and who the hell knows what kind of lies Inuyasha would’ve been spouting, trying to win her back over to his side…. 

Thought he was loath to admit it, Sesshoumaru hated how confused and insecure the whole situation made him feel. Suddenly he was forced to weigh facts against speculation, retrace every move they’d made towards and away from each other in the last few weeks, wondering if his silence had once again spoken louder than his words…

“I hope you’re not upset with me,” Kagome suddenly said, her eyes still trained to the middle distance, beyond the rapidly-moving landscape.

The unexpected apology nearly made Sesshoumaru slam on the brakes. “What?” he sputtered, catching himself and cutting sharply to the left, almost missing the turn.

“Inuyasha told me about the music,” she replied as they eased into a parking space in front of SHK headquarters, “and how you only do that when you’re really, _really_ angry at someone.”

He flushed. “It’s not you,” he informed her as he killed the engine, the desire to wring that scrawny asshole’s neck returning with a sudden vengeance.

He stilled when he felt the sudden, gentle pressure of her hand on his. He glanced over at her, a little unnerved by the way she was looking at him, so somber and serious, almost to the point of tears. It was obvious _something_ was weighing heavily on her mind, and though he itched to know what it was, he found himself unable to ask – how could he do it in such a way as to sound like a concerned friend, instead of a jealous lover?

“I hope it’s not Inuyasha, either,” she finally said, curling her fingers though his, seeking comfort in his touch as well as his words.

His expression darkened. “Don’t kid yourself, Kagome,” he muttered, wrenching away from her and climbing out of the car.

~*~

Sesshoumaru was considerably surprised when, later that day, he found Kagome waiting for him in his office. He’d only just returned from a marathon morning meeting, and his nerves were already on end. He’d passed along a proposal that SHK formally look into what Hidecki Financial Group had on offer, since it had _something_ that his father so obviously found enticing, and Takeda had taken great glee in rejecting it in front of everyone.

So he wasn’t exactly prepared to open his door and find a determined mail room clerk staring back at him.

“We need to talk,” Kagome said urgently, rapidly closing the gap of space between them, “but not here.”

He barely had time to protest before she was leading him away, glancing about covertly as she directed him down the hall to the elevator bank, then down to the first floor and out the double glass doors of the lobby. She wouldn’t stop long enough to breathe until they were at a restaurant two blocks away, tucked neatly inside a back corner booth.

“What’s going on?” Sesshoumaru demanded under the din of the lunchtime crowd.

“We need to talk,” Kagome said again, looking at him with a grave expression.

He scowled. “I don’t like conversations that start out that way,” he muttered in response, snapping his menu open to peruse the lunch choices. 

They placed their orders moments later, falling into silence once more while Kagome formulated her thoughts. Sesshoumaru, already irritated at having to put up with junior executive Takeda’s antics during their morning meeting, found himself running thin on patience. She was so hot and cold around him nowadays, making him feel things he hadn’t felt in a very long time, when he wanted nothing more than to just get off the rollercoaster already. He was already drowning in intrigue enough as it was, what with his father and all; he hardly needed any more added to his plate.

“It’s about your father,” she began abruptly, before clamping her mouth shut and shaking her head. “I mean, it’s about SHK – ”

“He wants to buy it,” Sesshoumaru surmised grimly. “I know.”

Kagome frowned. “But do you know _how_ he wants to do it?”

Sesshoumaru stared back at her skeptically. “Do you?”

She nodded grimly. “He’s setting you up,” she informed him. “He’s buying up these smaller companies for capital – and to get rid of other potential investors – and then he’s going to make SHK an offer it can’t refuse – or so he thinks. When he makes the move to take over the company, he’s going to do it in such a way that it looks like this was _your_ plan all along, and why you wanted so badly to be hired into mergers and acquisitions.”

He didn’t even blink. “I don’t believe you,” he intoned flatly.

She gaped at him. “What?!” She leaned closer, her eyes flashing with anger. “You think I’d make up such a thing, about my own company and eventual livelihood?!”

“No,” he contended, “but I believe Inuyasha would.”

She reset her jaw, giving him a long, calculated stare as she contemplated her next move. Their food arrived just then, forcing her back into her seat. The winning smile she lavished upon the waiter was gone as soon as his back was turned. Her expression was stormy as she assessed her companion once more.

“Why don’t you believe me?” she finally asked.

“Because I don’t believe a word that comes out of that mutt’s mouth, and I’m sure that’s where you got this from,” Sesshoumaru replied blithely, picking up a helping of rice with his chopsticks.

“You’re wrong about him,” she argued, pushing her food around on her plate. “You’re _crazy_ to not even acknowledge the severity of this situation! Your _career_ could be at stake here, not to mention the future of _my_ company!”

“Oh, _please_ , Kagome!” he responded around a mouthful of food. “He’s playing on your emotions, just as he did before! He’s just like my father in that regard; absolutely shameless and ruthless in his manipulations. He doesn’t give a damn who he hurts, if it means getting what he wants in the end.”

Kagome appeared as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his impromptu tirade. “How about we not confuse Inuyasha’s possible motives with yours, hmm?” she muttered under her breath.

An angry flush rose to the back of Sesshoumaru’s neck. “At least I never intentionally tried to hurt you,” he shot back.

“Sometimes you don’t have to try to succeed,” she replied archly.

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes as he stared back at her, willing his color to return to normal as he met and matched her challenging gaze. 

After a long moment, the corners of her eyes softened, and she looked down. “I don’t want to fight with you,” she sighed. “What would it take to get you to believe me?”

“Proof,” he said simply, taking the fight out of his voice.

“Proof,” she repeated, furrowing her brow. “What kind of proof?”

“Solid, physical evidence,” he replied. “My father is crafty, but not exactly a man of the times when it comes to memos, documentation, and such – he still believes in hard copies over electronic ones.” He leveled her with a calculating stare. “I want copies of those documents.”

“You want _copies_?” she echoed disbelievingly. “But that could take _days_! Time we don’t have!”

“Actions speak louder than words, isn’t that what you once told me?” he contended, fighting to control the wince that shuddered through him as he threw the words of their breakup back in her face. “I don’t trust a word that comes out of Inuyasha’s mouth – so far as I’m concerned, this is just another one of my father’s schemes, and he’s merely playing his part.”

Kagome gave him a sardonic smile. “Well, how’s this for irony? That’s exactly what Inuyasha told me you’d say.”

~*~

The final words of that conversation rankled over Sesshoumaru’s nerves for the next few days, but he had little time to ponder over the sinister possibilities. As soon as he’d returned to the office after their impromptu lunch, he’d found a stack of paperwork waiting for him, as well as a copy of a page from the employee handbook, the one that outlined the consequences for fraternization between colleagues. All too well could he imagine Takeda stopping by to find him gone, and gleefully assigning the mountain of busywork as revenge – and leaving the page from the handbook as a threat.

He’d been in no mood to humor any further suggestions from Kagome that he was unwittingly at the center of a conspiracy that evening, and for the first time in a long time, they spent it in different rooms.

The strain only worsened as the week wore on; they spent minimum amounts of time together, mostly for travel, never in leisure. Sesshoumaru poured himself into his work, not willing to give voice to the frustration nagging at the back of his mind, inspired by the self-imposed separation. After all, he was a loner – he could handle time away from her. Besides, he told himself, _she_ was the one who had withdrawn, still smarting with the knowledge that he wouldn’t just believe anything she said merely as an act of good faith.

His growing suspicion over his father’s schemes was not without its place, however – he continued to push his supervisors about his proposal to formally look into Hidecki; he was currently restricted in the amount of access he had to the little company’s records, so he couldn’t sniff out just why Taisho Enterprises was setting up to make a deal for them. It was the sort of intrigue that plagued him, knowing the answer was just beyond his reach, just around a seemingly never-ending corner.

He was in the middle of yet another private lunchtime brainstorming session about the mysterious company one afternoon when he heard the door to his office slide open and closed. He turned, expecting the worst, but was pleasantly surprised when he saw Kagome standing there instead, a sheaf of papers clutched to her chest as she quickly typed out a text on her phone. She pressed ‘send’ and looked up, her lips thinning as she gazed at him.

“You wanted proof?” she said, her tone soft but firm as she advanced towards him. She dumped the papers she held unceremoniously on his desk, on top of what he was working on. “How’s this?”

He blinked, stunned by the flourish, before picking them up. He silently scanned each of the pages in succession, a knot of dread first forming, and then tightening, in his abdomen as he delved deeper into the thin packet of papers. His eyes blurred by the time he read the last of it; dimly, he became aware of the fact that his hands were shaking.

“I…” he stuttered, pushing hard against the lump in his throat, “I…don’t believe this.”

 _This can’t be happening_ , he thought incredulously. _It can’t be true._

The world was crumbling beneath him; he felt like he was in a freefall, going backwards, with absolutely no idea where – or how – he was going to land.

_Inuyasha can’t be right._

And, yet, here it was: proof positive that his father was setting the stage for his revenge, just as that jerkwad of a sibling had warned he would.

 _Why?_ he wondered, squeezing his eyes shut as his thoughts piled atop one another in rapid succession. _Why are you doing this to me, Father? Do you truly hate me so much, or find me so undeserving?_

Warm arms encircled his shoulders from behind, elbows resting lightly against his arms. “I’m sorry, Sesshoumaru,” Kagome whispered into his hair, her breath tickling the back of his neck. “I wanted to save you from this grief.”

He bowed his head, causing her to tighten her hold on him; for a moment, he allowed himself to indulge in this comfort that she so freely offered. He measured it, the amount of time he let himself feel overwhelmed, and shocked, and so deeply, deeply hurt by this strange twist of fate. 

Then he steeled his spine, straightened his shoulders, and opened his eyes, new resolve shining in their golden depths. _I refuse to run from this_ , he determined silently. _It’s different now. If war is his desire, then war he shall receive._

Kagome felt the change in his countenance and released the strength of her hold, though her arms lingered around his neck. “Let me help you with this,” she murmured. “SHK hangs in the balance, and ultimately that’s my responsibility, not yours.”

Just as he was about to respond, her phone vibrated, dancing across his desk in a silent wave. He frowned when he caught the name of the caller, capturing the free arm still looped around his neck as she reached to answer it. “On one condition,” he contended, waiting until he had her full attention before continuing.

She glanced back at him expectantly. “What’s that?” she hedged, silencing the phone.

He held her gaze for a full half minute. “That I’m the one who calls the shots.”


	25. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #24 – “I want you to hate me.”

  
**24\. Control**

~*~

_Rise – fall down – rise again_  
What don’t kill ya make ya more strong  
Through black days / through black nights  
Through pitch black insights 

“Broken, Beat, & Scarred” © 2009  
James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett,  
Robert Trujillo, Lars Ulrich [Metallica]

~*~

Sesshoumaru schooled his features into a patient expression as he quietly knocked on the door of the division manager’s office. “Yes?” came the muffled greeting, and he stepped forward, sliding the door open and closed as he stepped into the tiny room.

“Ah, Mr. Taisho,” Ms. Sugiyama said by way of acknowledgement, glancing up from her work and pulling her glasses away from her face.

“Ms. Sugiyama,” he greeted her, lowering his head in a sign of deference for her position. “I was wondering if you had an answer regarding my proposal?”

The smallest of smiles pulled at her lips. “I must defer to Mr. Takeda in these matters,” she replied with a hint of regret. “I have passed along the proposal for a formal inquiry into Hidecki Financial Group, but he has not yet responded.”

Sesshoumaru’s lips thinned as he digested this information. He wasn’t surprised in the least to hear that it was not his immediate superior, but the head of the entire department of finance, who was blocking his proposal to open an inquiry into Hidecki. The tiny holdings company had somehow garnered his father’s attention, piquing his interest enough that the elder Taisho was making a serious play for it, and Sesshoumaru was desperate to know why. 

“I don’t suppose Mr. Takeda has given any indication of when he might reach a decision in this matter?” Sesshoumaru asked after a moment, watching Ms. Sugiyama closely as she formulated her response. She was an older lady, in or near her fifties, who ran her division with a firm and efficient hand. Her demeanor was quite pleasant, with a motherly aspect that she tried (but ultimately failed) to quash. She was the glue that held everything together, an intermediary between Takeda, the head of the entire department, and the army of interns and negotiators who did all of the actual work.

“No,” she said, adding after a pause, “and I wouldn’t hold my breath about it.”

Sesshoumaru nodded. “I see,” he murmured, clamping down on the blade of frustration that sliced through him. None of them seemed to understand the urgency of the matter, or how their very livelihoods were at stake. Hidecki was merely the first stepping stone in his father’s latest plan, one that would ultimately culminate in a hostile takeover of the very company they now worked for. Sesshoumaru himself was caught in the middle of it all, having been set up to take the blame when it all went down, and now he found himself fighting for his very future.

He wished he could have a bit of help from those around him…but, even after two months on the job, he found himself constantly running into roadblocks. He’d never quite been able to build up a sense of implicit trust with his colleagues (other than his supervisor), thanks to the shameless reputation his surname brought to the table. He was still very much in enemy territory, and some people – like Takeda – were intent on reminding him of that in every possible way.

“Thank you, Ms. Sugiyama,” Sesshoumaru said, bowing again before turning to leave. It appeared that if he wanted this injunction to go anywhere, he was going to have to take it up with the man himself, a prospect he was most decidedly _not_ looking forward to. 

Takeda hated him, and made no secret of it, even under the thin veneer of the polite business practices they all engaged in.

“Mr. Taisho, if I may?” Ms. Sugiyama’s voice caught him just as he was stepping back out into the hall. He cast a curious glance over his shoulder at her. She paused before continuing, as if choosing her words very carefully. “Mr. Takeda is not very dynamic in his vision of how to run this department. Everything – and every _one_ – has its place.”

“As I’m aware,” Sesshoumaru responded wryly. _But that’s not going to stop me._

He fell silent in his thoughts as he made his way down the hall, his pace smooth and steady as he approached the frosted glass-windowed door of Takeda’s office. He halted a few steps away, his eyes closing as his hands formed into fists at his sides. He was going to need his every wit about him as he faced down this foe. It was hard enough to sit in departmental meetings with the man, but the presence of the others had mercifully held his temper and frustration in check. 

In a one-on-one confrontation? All bets were off.

He reached out, knocking firmly on the door, holding himself as still as possible as he waited for a response.

“Enter,” came the terse command, and he complied, opening the door and striding into the room with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. He leveled an assessing look at his new surroundings, allowing no emotion or expression to show under his customary impassive mask.

Takeda didn’t acknowledge him, his focus instead on the paperwork cluttering his desk, his pen scratching across the document in front of him at a leisurely pace. Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes as his gaze came to rest on the older man. Sometimes one really could judge a book by its cover – Takeda dressed to reflect just how stodgy and stubborn he was: a black suit several seasons out of style, paired with a well-worn white shirt and dark-colored tie, his jacket buttoned at the waist and cuffs even behind the closed doors of his office. His dark hair was slicked back from his face and parted severely over his left temple, ostensibly to hide the bald spot forming at his crown. His features were sharp even under a layer of fat, and he gripped his pen tightly between three white-tipped fingers.

Irritation flared in Sesshoumaru as Takeda set aside the document he was working on and picked up another without missing a beat. _Already he wants to establish his dominance and control of the situation_ , Sesshoumaru surmised. He fisted his hands again in an attempt to reign in his annoyance at the blatant power play. It was bad enough that he had to ask for this man’s help, but it was nearly unbearable to do so with deference or contrition.

Sesshoumaru bowed down to no one, much less a tedious middle manager on a power trip.

However, he knew when to pick his battles. “Mr. Takeda,” he greeted, falling into the most courteous bow he could muster.

Takeda finally lifted his eyes away from his paper, arching an inquiring brow. “Yes?”

The lack of the reciprocal response demanded by propriety rankled along Sesshoumaru’s nerves, but he pressed on, unwilling to let such petty slights get under his skin. “I have put before you an inquiry into Hidecki Financial Group, and I am respectfully requesting an answer to said submission,” he said in an even tone.

The tension between them was ratcheting up with each passing moment, as Takeda eyed Sesshoumaru with a mix of thoughtfulness and calculation. “No,” he replied simply, measuring the word – and his opponent’s response.

“Why not?” Sesshoumaru shot back immediately, already anticipating the rejection.

Takeda shifted to his right, shuffling through a stack of papers before extracting one. “Your inquiry was insufficient, both in the way of interest, argument, and evidence,” he responded, a hint of goading condescension in his tone. 

Sesshoumaru struggled to refrain from rising to the bait. “Indeed, but that is just the point,” he contended, striving to keep his voice level. “The information Hidecki has made available to the public is inadequate for assessing its operations. By submitting a formal inquiry, I will have access to more of their records.”

A grim little smile curled the corners of Takeda’s mouth. “And until you present a compelling reason to the contrary, my answer will not change. I am not granting you permission to move forward with this inquiry.” He sat back in his chair, allowing his eyes to fall down the length of his opponent before rising back again to his face, meeting the obstinate golden glare. “I believe I need to clarify your position within this company, Mr. Taisho.”

Sesshoumaru shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clasping his hands behind his back. He cut his eyes down to the chair in front of Takeda’s desk, well aware that he hadn’t been granted permission to sit, either. “Oh?”

“Yes.” Takeda rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepling his fingers over his midsection as he eyed the tall, thin man. “We at SHK adhere to a very traditional business culture, with standard rules and a strict hierarchy. Everyone has his place in this company, and together, we operate as a well-oiled machine in order to take care of our business. Orders come from the top down, and all employees defer to their supervisors.” 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “You are an intern in this department. Your job is to do the work assigned to you by me, my supervisory managers, or members of my negotiating team. Your job is _not_ to bring us ‘new business,’ or draft formal inquiries not asked of you, or – indeed – anything beyond the realm of the case currently assigned to you. You are here to _learn_ , Mr. Taisho, not dictate. Perhaps that is not what you’re used to, coming from the family that you do, but this is how we do things here.”

Takeda paused for full effect, allowing Sesshoumaru a moment to fully absorb his contemptuous lecture. “Do we have an understanding?”

 _I understand, all right_ , Sesshoumaru seethed silently, unable to conceal the fire that flashed in his golden eyes. _You’re more than willing to cut off your nose to spite your face, simply to keep me in my place – even if it means ultimately destroying your career and the company you presume such loyally for._

“Yes,” Sesshoumaru replied, matching cold calculation with cold calculation.

“Good,” Takeda responded, sitting tall once more and taking a deep breath, puffing his chest out. “If there’s nothing else…?”

Sesshoumaru gave a curt shake of his head, drawing his lips into a thin line.

“Then I suggest you return to the work assigned to you by Ms. Sugiyama,” Takeda continued with a flourish. “This matter is closed.” 

With that, he turned his attention once more to the document in front of him, not even bothering to give Sesshoumaru a formal dismissal.

Sesshoumaru curled his hands into fists behind his back, a momentary vision of wrapping his hands around Takeda’s neck and pressing his thumbs into his windpipe flashing across the backs of his eyes. _Fuck you_ , he thought savagely, turning on his heel to leave. _If you think this will stop me, you have another thought coming._

~*~

Mercifully, calm had once again restored itself by the time he returned to his office. Sesshoumaru pushed open the door, barreling into the room with a singular thought and purpose, only to be brought up short when he noticed Kagome perched prettily on top of his desk. She was busy tapping out a message on her phone, her legs, crossed at the knee, swinging back and forth in time to whatever music she was listening to via earbuds. Her spirits seemed as high as his were low, which only served to unnerve him further.

He stared at her for a moment, taking in the oversized coverall uniform that concealed every luscious curve of her body, as he contemplated how to react. On the one hand, he was so intently focused on the matter at hand that he was annoyed to be interrupted by _anything_ , much less his partner-in-crime. On the other hand, even the merest sight of her set his entire being aflame with longing and lust, and it was all he could do _not_ to take advantage of the seclusion of his office, and her on his desk… 

On this day, reason won out. He closed the door firmly behind him, startling her from her reverie.

“Oh!” she cried, sitting up straight when she caught sight of him, tugging on the cords of her earbuds in order to dislodge them. “I was wondering where you were – I just wanted to tell you that Inuyasha and I have finally gotten everything set up on our end.” She graced him with an excited, if nervous, smile. “I’m pretty sure we’ve covered all our bases: we’ve signed up for a private server in order to have secure electronic communication; Inuyasha has picked up some burner phones so that we can call and text without your father knowing; and I’ve just finished securing an anonymous drop box at the post office so that we can exchange packages, if necessary…”

She trailed off, frowning a bit when Sesshoumaru swept past her and started digging through his bag, which he kept in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet next to his desk. “Are you even listening to me?” she asked skeptically.

“Hm,” Sesshoumaru grunted, crouching on the floor as he continued his search. _I know it’s down here somewhere_ , he told himself. _I knew it was a good idea to keep it on me at all times…even if I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this._

“Jackpot,” he muttered, emerging at last with a nondescript flash drive. He stared at it for a moment, mentally cataloging all of the files contained on the single stick, trying to remember if he needed documentation that was stored elsewhere before jumpstarting the project.

“What’s going on?”

Kagome’s question brought him back to the present. He turned to face her, his golden eyes searing into hers for a fleeting moment, causing his heart to beat rapidly against his ribs. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she gazed back at him, curious and conspiratorial, sending another warm flush of yearning washing over him.

“Takeda is an asshole,” he stated, allowing some measure of vitriol to release in his words.

Kagome rolled her eyes. “What else is new?” she snorted in response.

Sesshoumaru tugged his desk chair closer, sliding into the seat with effortless grace and swiveling around to face her. “That means there’s a change of plans,” he said, holding up the flash drive.

She furrowed her brow inquisitively, inviting him to continue with a wave of her hand.

“Since Takeda has decided that being stubborn is more important than being right, it appears I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands,” Sesshoumaru explained. “If I ever want to find out what’s so fascinating about Hidecki Financial Group, I’m going to have to pursue it on my own.”

“So instead of putting in a competing bid for Hidecki via SHK, you’re going to put in an independent one?” Kagome asked, trying to clarify her confusion. “But without the power of the SHK name behind you, will you even have the means to compete with Taisho Enterprises for it?”

Sesshoumaru shrugged. “I suppose we’re about to find out.”

“Shit,” Kagome breathed, gazing down at him as the gravity of the situation sank in.

They had both been hoping that he could persuade his supervisors to allow him to dig into Hidecki’s background and records, and eventually pass along a proposal to the negotiating team to put in a bid for controlling interest in the modest holdings company. They had been operating under the assumption that it would take a name just as powerful as that of Tashio Enterprises to make Hidecki sit up and take notice, and consider merging with any other firm but his father’s. Sesshoumaru knew that if he could thwart this first part of the plan, then crippling the rest of it – using Hidecki to buy SHK out from under his competitors – would be easy. 

Why his father was even interested in this comparatively small-fry operation was mystifying, but all the same, it seemed to be the key component of his scheme. If Sesshoumaru couldn’t use his current position to his advantage, then he’d have to think outside the box.

Takeda might have thought he was just putting Sesshoumaru in his place by denying him the inquiry request, when in fact he was only helping along the one man he actively hated and opposed. _How’s that for irony?_ Sesshoumaru mused silently. _Takeda would probably shit a brick if he realized._

“We really don’t have time to waste, especially considering this most frustrating setback,” he announced abruptly. “I’m taking an extended lunch break today so that I might put the wheels of this project into motion.”

“What is that?” Kagome asked, nodding at the flash drive.

Sesshoumaru considered the 4GB stick. “This is a project I designed and developed as part of my master’s thesis,” he explained cryptically. “I set up a trading company of my own, doing everything short of actually putting it into play. My advisor was so impressed with the thoroughness of the work that he suggested I hang on to the material. I’d hoped to never have to use it beyond an intellectual exercise, but…” He shrugged.

“Wow,” Kagome breathed, appearing suitably impressed. “You are a genius! I should’ve known you’d have an ace up your sleeve!”

He shrugged noncommittally, though he felt inordinately pleased by her effusive praise.

“Can I come with you when you set it up?” She pulled out her phone. “Let me just send Inuyasha a message – ”

“No,” Sesshoumaru interrupted forcefully, grabbing hold of her wrist. “ _I’m_ running this operation, and this ‘sharing of information’ business? Is a one-way street, from him to me.”

Kagome stared back at him in surprise. “No,” she protested, “it’s not.”

His grip on her tightened. “And why not?” he inquired shortly. “Inuyasha has no need to know of my business.”

She pulled out of his grasp, affronted. “How the hell do you expect me to get the right information for you, if he doesn’t know what’s going on?” She shot him an irritated look. “I have to keep him just as informed as he keeps me, you know. That’s _kinda_ how this works.”

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “You know I don’t trust him,” he replied coldly.

Kagome’s expression softened as she leaned down towards him. “So you’re just going to have to trust me instead,” she murmured, her eyes shining. “Trust that I know what I’m doing, and trust that I’m not going to fuck this up for you. Don’t forget, I have a stake in this, too – and so does Inuyasha, whether you even want to acknowledge his part in this or not.”

She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. “Do you trust me?” she asked softly.

Right now, he didn’t trust himself to stay on this train of thought long enough to answer her. Her hands were warm and soft against his skin, her fingers curling into the nape of his neck as she leaned forward, as if she were bracing herself to close the gap between them…

“Do you understand what’s at stake here?” he managed to choke out, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

She smiled, drawing closer to him, until her breath was warm against his mouth. “I do,” she replied, pressing her lips to his. She shifted away before he could respond, circling her arms over his shoulders and resting her head in the hollow of his neck. “More than you even realize.”

He eased closer to her perch, slipping his arms around her waist, enjoying the comfort and promise of the heat that was generating between them. “Fine,” he relented, reluctant to let her go. “I trust you.”

“Completely?” she murmured, her words muffled against his skin.

He swallowed hard before responding. “Yes.”

~*~

Kagome leaned over the back of his chair, staring with a mixture of curiosity and awe at the computer screen in front of him. “This is amazing,” she said for approximately the seventh time that day.

Sesshoumaru snorted. “It’s not that impressive,” he countered. “It’s only been theoretical thus far – I’m afraid it’s going to need quite a bit of work before it’s ready for the world.”

Kagome shrugged. “And _I_ think you’re too hard on yourself,” she replied, draping her arms over his shoulders.

The two were stationed in an old study carrel in the basement of the public library, nearly the end of their respective lunch hours. Sesshoumaru had been working almost feverishly on his project company, registering for a business license, updating its prospectus, and refreshing the website before heading back to work, knowing that time was of the essence in moving to attract the attention of Hidecki Financial Group. Of course, the sooner his company was up and running, the sooner he made contact with Hidecki, and the sooner his father would find out about his unexpected competition for the group. Hence the extra layer of protection, via the shared public library IP system, as well as a proxy on top of that.

He was taking no chances of his father figuring out just who it was behind this new company.

“Done,” Sesshoumaru announced, finished with the last bit of coding. He opened a fresh browser window, displaying the new company’s quite professional-looking website.

“Genkin Katsuro, hmm?” Kagome purred the name of his company into his ear, sending a ripple of heated satisfaction down his spine. “The ‘golden source of the victorious son’? How appropriate.”

Sesshoumaru frowned at the screen, a knot of bittersweet hurt twisting through his abdomen. “Indeed,” he murmured. He’d chosen the name on a whim, after a particularly galling run-in with his father during the course of his studies. The irony of it now was bitter to the taste; besting his father in a game of political intrigue would indeed make him victorious, but he wondered if it would be worth whatever price he’d have to pay for defying him like this, outright and in public. No matter how much he opposed him or resented him, the man _was_ still his father, after all.

Kagome straightened her stance, loosening her hold on Sesshoumaru as she reached for the phone vibrating from inside one of her uniform pockets. “Oh, it’s Inuyasha,” she mumbled, turning away. “Let me just reply…”

Sesshoumaru scowled. That was the other part of this entire operation that made him wary – he didn’t like how closely Kagome and Inuyasha would be working together, even if it was ultimately for his benefit. He didn’t trust his half-brother as far as he could throw him, especially not when it came to her. He’d seen the way they interacted, albeit briefly; it was patently obvious to him that Inuyasha had not moved past their prior dalliance. 

It would just be one more thing for him to monitor, one final, irritating annoyance on top of all the rest.

He cut his eyes over his shoulder, gazing at Kagome’s back as she happily typed out another message to the vile half-breed. An annoyance, maybe….but finally be able to have her of his own free will would make it more than worth the wait.


	26. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #29 – _(Author’s Choice)_ – “If you don’t have to go, don’t.”

**25\. Betrayal**

Kagome pressed through the door of the bustling café, balancing a tray of iced coffees in one hand as she dug into the depths of her purse with the other. She slipped seamlessly into the sea of humanity that flowed over the sidewalks on this bright July afternoon, managing to unearth her cell phone moments before it rang. A hint of a smile graced her lips as she flipped it open and pressed it to her ear, not even bothering to confirm the caller’s identity.

“ _Hai_ , Inuyasha,” she greeted him cheerfully. _Right on time._

They had settled into something of a routine over the last three weeks. Sesshoumaru had thrown himself into his side project, launching his own independent trading company, and once again began to practically live at the library. He’d turned one of the old study carrels in the basement into his company headquarters, and had almost immediately started retreating there every evening after work – and lately, most weekend afternoons – in order to carry out the company’s business.

Toiling away at a startup was grueling work, which Kagome had witnessed –and experienced – first hand. She and Inuyasha exchanged emails on their private, secure server every morning, updating each other on anything of interest that might have happened the night before. After her morning shift at work, she’d head to the post office, checking to see if he’d left any messages or packages that might be relevant to their cause. And, finally, he called her every afternoon to fill her in on what Taisho Senior had been up to during working hours.

In spite of the tiring and sometimes boring work, she found it rather thrilling to be part of this venture. She hadn’t lost sight of the larger picture – Sesshoumaru was trying to keep his father from buying up Hidecki Financial Group and using it, in turn, to threaten SHK, her family’s company – and oftentimes felt like a covert agent, especially when she had the chance to sneak messages to her flatmate under his domineering department manager’s nose at work. Usually, however, whatever information Inuyasha had uncovered could wait until the evening, after she’d had the chance to pick up some dinner (as well as plenty of caffeine) and head for Sesshoumaru’s library-carrel ‘office,’ where they’d work late into the night.

Well, mostly _he_ would work and she’d watch, but she pitched in where she could. He’d opened new, separate accounts for all corporate communications and she’d very quickly taken them over. She enjoyed answering phone calls (always in her politest, most professional tone), and organizing his inbox (to keep it streamlined and clutter-free). Sesshoumaru seemed to appreciate her efforts, and the buffer she’d managed to build and maintain between him and those inquiring about his business. 

With SHK hanging in the balance, she took none of it lightly. Besides, she relished this perfect opportunity to spend more time with him. This collaboration had only served to bring them closer than ever, and she was certain that, if everything went according to plan – if he succeeded in his campaign to best his father, if they saved her family’s company – then he would be hers (in _every_ sense of the word) by the end of the summer. 

Their attraction to each other was undeniable; the temptation that came with being so close into the early hours of the morning was proving harder and harder to resist. They’d shared a few clandestine kisses, in celebration of small, fleeting moments of success; she’d also kneaded the stress from his shoulders on occasion, and always let her fan drift his way as they sat side-by-side at the desk, breaking up the stale, hot air as they studied figures and spreadsheets and features from the financial pages.

Last night she’d dozed off while leaning against him, only to wake up sometime later and feel the welcome weight of his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. She’d looked up at him, noting his closed eyes and soft expression, but quickly realized that he was not asleep by the pattern of his breathing. She loved that he felt he could be vulnerable in her presence, even if he thought she wasn’t aware of it.

Just remembering that moment conjured the same warm, tingly feeling in her core.

“Kagome? Are you still there?” 

Inuyasha’s words sliced through her reverie. “What?” she mumbled, shaking her head slightly; she blinked, breaking abruptly from the crowd before she walked straight past her destination. “I’m sorry, Inuyasha,” she apologized as she stepped into the lobby of the library and headed for the elevators that would take her to the basement. “What did you say?”

She didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice this time. “Something’s…come up,” he replied enigmatically.

“What?” she prodded, stepping onto the elevator, suddenly grateful to be alone if, as she guessed, she was about to be on the receiving end of bad news.

“I…” He trailed off into the static created by the enclosed metal interior. 

She yanked the phone away, cursing the disappearing connectivity bars. “Dammit,” she swore, shaking it for a moment, while at the same time willing the elevator to move faster. Finally, mercifully, it lumbered to a halt, its doors shuttering open. 

Kagome shot into the dimly lit hallway, pressing her phone to her ear once more. “Say that again, Inuyasha,” she pleaded frantically. “I didn’t catch it.”

“Oh, hell,” he huffed, a note of disgruntled hysteria entering his voice, “I’ll just let Sesshoumaru tell you. I gotta go. Later, Kagome,” he added, before abruptly hanging up.

She frowned. He’d never hung up on her before. _‘Something’s come up – I’ll let Sesshoumaru tell you’?_ She recounted their strange conversation silently as she contemplated her now-dark phone. _He’s never said anything like that to me before, either._

Dread settled like a stone in her stomach.

Still, she pressed forward, moving through the hallway that led to the old study carrels on quiet, nimble feet. She’d once made the mistake of wearing sandals down here, only to discover in the light of Sesshoumaru’s ‘office’ just how disgusting the floors really were in this dusty, mostly-forgotten corner of the building. That memory assailed her now for some reason, sending a disconcerting ripple of anxiety down her spine.

 _Please, God_ , she implored silently as she knocked on the door of the carrel, _don’t let this be bad news._

“Sesshoumaru?” she ventured, turning the knob and easing the door open. He was sitting at the desk opposite, giving her his back. It was not an unusual sight, she reminded herself as she slipped into the makeshift room. The desk was mounted against the only permanent wall offered, a thick slab of concrete that separated the carrels from the library’s other internal workings. The other three walls were made of thick, dark oak – all solid, all windowless. The prized computer was situated in the middle of the desk, which spanned the entire width of the concrete wall, and two high-backed chairs (one of which had been stolen from the carrel next door) were usually wedged under it. Sesshoumaru hadn’t given much thought to the décor of his carrel-turned-office; ever practical, he always brought everything he needed with him, if only to ensure that he didn’t accidentally leave anything important behind.

The room had always been a bit gloomy, but right now it felt downright ominous, the air heavy and thick and full of tension. It took her a moment to realize what seemed so out of place.

It was him. Or, more specifically, his hair.

In the sticky humidity of the summer, he’d transitioned into lighter linen clothing, but had few options of how to deal with the heavy curtain of his hair. He tied it back at the nape for his internship at SHK, which gave him a clean, professional look, but it offered little in the way of comfort as his working hours grew longer and deeper into the night. He could – and did – take off his coat and roll up his sleeves in an effort to cool down, but found himself at a loss with his hair. He’d balked at her suggestion to cut it, and had nearly had a cow when he’d discovered that she’d braided it in idle boredom one night. From then on, he’d taken to pulling it back into a messy half-ponytail with a handful of extra hair ties, succeeding in both lifting the heavy mass away from his shoulders and back, and exposing the surprisingly delicate arch of his neck. She’d teased him about it, of course, but secretly found this disheveled look incredibly sexy.

So walking into the room and seeing him sitting there – sleeves straight, coat on, hair down, head bowed – only made the knot in her stomach tighten. She hesitated before approaching him, placing the tray of drinks she’d brought on the corner of the desk as she eyed him. His hair fell over his shoulders, shielding his face from her completely – and for a single, crazy moment, she wondered if he had somehow fallen asleep.

“Sesshoumaru?” she tried again, sweeping his hair back. “Is something – ?” All it took was one look at his stony expression to answer her half-asked question.

 _Oh, yeah_ , she thought, swallowing hard, _something is very definitely wrong._

She grappled for some other way to broach the subject. “Inuyasha – said – something has happened – ?”

“So he knew about this,” Sesshoumaru interrupted, his tone flat, quiet, and cold.

“Knew about _what_?” she pressed, pulling out the chair beside him and sinking into it. “Please, tell me what’s going on!”

He shoved the single piece of paper that he’d been staring at in her direction without comment.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, feeling her heart skip a beat as she read: 

_ CONFIDENTIAL MEMO _

_TO: SHK GOLD TEAM [NEGOTIATION]_  
FROM: S. TAKEDA, DIRECTOR  
DATE: 3 JULY 2009 

_The bid for Hidecki Financial Group is cleared for go-ahead. Please file today. You are authorized to open with an offer that raises the current bidding price (as of 2 July 2009) by 5,000,000 yen._

Kagome glanced up at her companion. “But – how could he have known about this?” she sputtered.

“Indeed, that is the question,” Sesshoumaru intoned darkly, spearing her with a cold golden glare. “Obviously, this means that he’s not conveying to you everything that he knows.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or else _you’re_ not telling me.”

“Sesshoumaru!” she yelped, unnerved by the accusation. “How can you even say that?! I’ve been totally honest with you!”

He gave a short nod. “Then Inuyasha is the weak link here,” he surmised. “That slimy little bastard is beyond useless. Why did I ever entertain the notion that he could help me? He has done _nothing_ to further my cause.”

“That’s not true, and you know it!” she protested, reaching for the dozens of files containing her correspondence with him, which she’d stacked neatly beside the computer. “What do you call this?” she inquired, waving the folders in his face.

“Incidental,” he shot back, pushing her hand away and reaching for the memo again. “These are _exactly_ the sort of nasty little surprises I’d hoped to avoid with the aid of his so-called ‘inside information.’” He shoved to his feet and turned away from her as he continued to contemplate the damning leaked document.

“Wait a minute,” Kagome cried, shooting to her feet. “How do _you_ even know about this? The Gold Team is the elite group of negotiators that Takeda himself hand-selected.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed him suspiciously. “And we both know that Takeda would never let _you_ within ten feet of them.”

“I have my spies,” he returned cryptically. “And it is _precisely_ the fact that Takeda engaged the Gold Team on this matter that _infuriates_ me.”

She considered his response for a moment before unfurling her arms and circling around to look at him once more. She hated it when he became sullen and angry and curled up within himself. It was times like these when she so desperately wanted to help him, if only he’d let her.

“I don’t understand,” she admitted sheepishly. “Isn’t this what we wanted from the start? For SHK to make an offer on Hidecki, so that your father couldn’t steamroll them into merging with Taisho Enterprises instead?”

“Too little, too late,” Sesshoumaru sneered in response. “Takeda’s bid now won’t save your company.”

Kagome fisted her hands in frustration. “What are you talking about?” she asked him, wishing for once that he would speak in plain terms.

He looked away from her again and started to pace. “For the last three weeks, I have meticulously plotted and put into action a plan that would grant Genkin Katsuro the legitimacy and history it needs to bid on Hidecki, and have its bid taken seriously,” he began. “And during that time I finally discovered _why_ my father was so intent on snapping them up.”

He snorted derisively. “For once, the old man actually told me the truth,” he mused. “Hidecki Financial Group has an investment bank and serious play on the stock market. That means they can raise a lot of capital in a very short amount of time – precisely what he needs in order to make SHK, or _any_ firm, for that matter, an offer that it can’t refuse.

“With SHK entering the fray, my father now sees that the stakes have raised, and may even believe that I have somehow shared my knowledge of his plan to use Hidecki against them,” he continued. “That means that one of two things is about to happen: either he is going to call their bluff and rocket the bidding war for Hidecki through the stratosphere, or he is going to withdraw his offer completely.”

 _You Taisho men don’t do anything by halves, do you_ , Kagome thought wryly. “But why would he do that?” she prodded. “Doesn’t he need Hidecki to complete his master plan? I mean, you said yourself they can raise a lot of cash really quickly.”

Sesshoumaru shook his head. “Buying Hidecki was his backup plan,” he revealed somberly. “Investment banks aren’t absolutely necessary when it comes to raising fast capital.” He paused, sliding an assessing study down the length of her and back. “You’re an economics student, and I know you’re not stupid, so tell me – what’s another way that a corporation as massive and wide-ranging as Taisho Enterprises could acquire capital quickly?”

She flushed under his sudden, intense scrutiny, searching his features as the possibilities raced across the back of her mind. “It could sell its assets,” she finally replied, feeling a wave of nausea roll over her as the ugly realization of what he was driving at dawned on her.

“That’s right,” he confirmed. “And in this case, the cost-risk ratio of doing so would make sense. If he thought he could make enough money shunting off lesser subsidiaries to buy SHK wholesale, he’d do it – because what he’s gaining is, theoretically at least, more than what he’s losing.”

He drew to a halt, turning to face her plainly. “But don’t you see? Now that SHK has entered this bidding war for Hidecki – there’s no outcome in which I _don’t_ end up on the losing side.” He shrugged helplessly. “Either SHK and Taisho Enterprises will drive the bidding up and effectively price me out, or my father will completely undo his legacy trying for this one, final comeuppance.” 

He wavered under a fine shimmer of outrage. “He’d rather destroy his company than leave it to me,” he whispered, averting his eyes, the anguish raw in his tone.

“Oh, Sesshoumaru,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around him, pressing herself against him, and – for the first time – _feeling_ the crushing burden that he carried. Her heart broke for him; what a devastating realization it must’ve been, and what a torturous route he must’ve traveled to get there. She had known nothing but love and support from her own father, and though she sometimes felt isolated from her family, she always knew, in her heart of hearts, that she could return home and they would accept her for what she was. From what she’d gathered from conversations with both Sesshoumaru _and_ Inuyasha, their father would not be quite so forgiving or accepting of his sons’ perceived faults.

 _Please stay with me_ , she wanted to tell him, _and let me love you more than I already do…_ Yet, she knew better than to give this desperate plea voice; she didn’t want him to mistake her feelings for mere pity or sympathy, neither of which he would stand for. He wouldn’t understand that she loved him _because_ of his flaws – because he wasn’t the ice prince he’d always been accused of being, because he wasn’t always in firm control of his life, his future, or even his past. He wasn’t perfect, and he never would be, and she wished that she could show him how much that didn’t matter to her. 

She loved him for his depth, his complexities, his passion, his vulnerability. She loved the man beneath the hard, stoic façade, and wished desperately that he didn’t feel the need to hide behind his impassive mask, to shield his perceived inadequacies from the world. 

_Please…_ she thought, tightening the brace of her arms around his waist, threading her fingers through his hair.

“Please…” she whispered against his chest, her words muffled by his finely-woven shirt.

She felt his arms encircle her – and for a moment, her heart rejoiced, brimming over with love and joy and support. She wondered if he’d somehow intuited her thoughts – if this was him, accepting the support she offered so willingly – if they could ever be so close and connected that words would not be necessary.

“This is my destiny,” he stated, his tone low but firm, the words reverberating through him and into her, causing her to momentarily lose the ability to breathe.

“What is?” she managed, looking up at him, hoping against hope to see her feelings reflected in his eyes. _We are…?_

“It is my destiny to fight with my father, and to win,” he replied instead, letting his arms fall away from her as he took a step back – away – his hands curling into fists at his sides as an air of determination rose around him. “I have to be the one to foil his plans. It _has_ to be me.” 

Kagome furrowed her brow, not liking this turn his train of thought was suddenly taking. “But why?” she questioned softly. Why was he so intent on pursuing this, given how much pain it was causing him? 

His fixed his gaze at a point beyond her, somewhere in the middle distance. “I am his heir, and it is my duty to succeed him,” he replied in a steely tone, sounding very much as if he’d rehearsed this little speech. “ _And_ to prove to him that I am worthy of that succession. This _is_ my destiny – and Inuyasha and Takeda are only standing in my way now.”

She _really_ didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?” she asked carefully, wondering where, exactly, he was going with this. After all, the battle being waged against Taisho Enterprises was about more than just him – the future of her own father’s legacy hung in the balance, not to mention Inuyasha’s ability to return to his _real_ home, with his grandparents in France.

“I will not let my father destroy my inheritance,” he replied, lowering his gaze to meet hers, “and I will not let either of them interfere with it, either.”

A chill rippled down her spine at his sinister response. “But what about SHK?” she asked.

He simply shrugged and turned back to the desk. “That is not my concern.”

Kagome’s jaw dropped. “ _What_?!” she cried, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face her again. “What _the hell_ are you talking about?!”

He wrenched out of her grasp. “It was _never_ my concern,” he informed her coldly. “This is – and always has been – between me and my father. SHK was simply a means to an end – but now, it is simply an obstacle in my path.”

“How can you even _say that_ to me?” she demanded, taking hold of him once more as traitorous tears prickled behind her eyes. “After everything we’ve been through – you don’t even _care_?”

To her unending surprise, his savage expression softened, and he clasped her shoulders gently. “I care,” he assured her, “because though I despise Takeda, your company has treated me well – _you_ have treated me well, and I – ”

He released a jagged breath, squeezing her shoulders as his eyes fell closed. After a moment, he composed himself. “Ultimately, my loyalty lies with myself.”

“Do you think this is all just some sort of game?” she cried out, her tears spilling over her cheeks. “Do you not really care who loses, as long as it’s not you?”

“I care, Kagome,” he shot back sharply, giving her a little shake. “SHK is a good, strong, solid company. It doesn’t deserve to be swallowed up by my father’s ambition.”

“It doesn’t deserve to be thwarted by yours, either!” she countered, pulling away from his hold. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn, Sesshoumaru? Why can’t you see that your way isn’t the only way? If SHK outbids Taisho Enterprises, your father will still be defeated – why won’t you accept the help that you were _begging_ for a month ago?!”

She wanted to scream and shout and shove him – _anything_ to make him realize that there was another way beyond his narrow scope of thinking. There was another way that would allow _both_ of them to win their inheritances intact, and to be together in the end. Isn’t that what they’d been working towards all along?

Isn’t that what he ultimately wanted? It’s what _she_ wanted, and that was reason enough to fight. 

“It’s _too late_ for that,” he reiterated angrily, bringing her back to the present. “Do you think that Takeda would _dare_ give me credit for bringing Hidecki to his attention? No. It _has_ to be me – I have to do it _my way_ – because my father _has to know_ that it was _me_ who bested him!”

 _Can you truly be so shortsighted?_ she wondered as she stared incredulously at him. _Are you so blindsided by your frustration and fear that you can no longer see the forest for the trees? I love you, I love you, stop acting like this…stop pushing me away!_

“Stop being so goddamned selfish!” she exclaimed instead. “I thought we were in this together – I thought we were a team…!”

He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at her, his challenge as fierce as her words. “I will not yield on this. This is who I am, Kagome – this is who I always have been, and who I always will be.”

“So inflexible that you won’t bend until you break?” she hurled back. She swiped furiously at her tears. “Then you’re gonna have to learn _how_ to yield, because when you break, _no one_ is going to be there to pick up the pieces.”

She whirled around and stormed off before he could reply, before he could shake the foundations of her love for him any further. She broke into a run as she hit the hallway, hoping she could make it to the elevators before her knees gave way beneath her.

~*~

Kagome stifled a sigh as she swirled her straw through her half-melted cocktail. She sat at a table in the shadows of the club, ignoring the multicolored lights that glittered the dance floor, tuning out the ear-shattering beats of the music, disregarding her friends’ concerned expressions they crowded around her, one after the other, trying to engage her in conversation.

She didn’t mean to snub them; she’d thought that dressing up and going out would distract her from the heartrending events of the afternoon. She could feel the tension coiling between her shoulders, settling in her lower back, weighing down her calves. What better way to be rid of it than to dance her cares away? She and her friends really liked this club, and came here often, for its eclectic mix of American techno and European dance music. Combine that with a bit of junk food and some alcohol, and she’d be partaking of her favorite method for working through angst.

Only – It wasn’t working this time. Somehow, it only added to her feelings of helplessness and frustration.

“Kagome?”

She glanced up, meeting Sango’s anxious gaze before averting her eyes again. Sango took her hand in her own. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Kagome slowly shook her head, lifting her glass to her lips and taking another healthy swig of her vodka martini. “I’m sure,” she confirmed. “Really…it’s no big deal.”

She could practically feel her friends’ eyes boring holes in the top of her head, but she just couldn’t bring herself to tell them what had happened. They’d all warned her before about falling back into a relationship with Sesshoumaru. None of them really approved of him, though they tried to be supportive nonetheless. She’d kept up her end of their pre-summer bargain, carving out a niche of time just for them, and they had held up their end as well, keeping the atmosphere fun and relaxing whenever they were together, and focusing the collective conversation on the positives of their lives instead of the negatives.

It hadn’t been all happiness and light, of course – life, in general, sucked too much for that – but it was the fun that had inadvertently brought them closer as friends. Kagome felt especially close to Miroku these days, having sought him out on more than one occasion for his level-headed advice. He, in turn, had confided in her about his plans to propose to Sango later in the summer.

She adored these people – they were worlds apart from Kouga’s shallow clique. Nevertheless, she just wasn’t up for hearing about how her fight with Sesshoumaru might’ve been a blessing in disguise, or how this was simply his true nature coming to the fore, or how this was the perfect opportunity to break her sublease and just move on with her life. She was about to graduate from university, after all, and what better time – or way – to make a fresh start?

“I suck, you guys,” she sighed, lifting her eyes to meet their collective gaze. “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to drag you down, too.” She cracked a smile. “One bad day and I’m wallowing in misery – there’s no need for you guys to join me.”

Miroku patted her shoulder supportively. “That’s what we’re here for, though: the good times _and_ the bad,” he reminded her. He exchanged long looks with both Sango and Inuyasha. “We’re not going to judge you, Kagome. We’re just worried about you.”

“There really isn’t any need to be,” she rushed to assure them. “Look – I’m just tired. I’m sorry that tonight’s been a total bust. Can you give me a couple of days, and then maybe we can try this again?” She turned on her best, most appeasing, puppy dog eyes expression.

Sango exchanged another long look with her boyfriend, but before either of them could speak, Inuyasha did. “C’mon, Kagome,” he said, moving forward to take a firm hold on her arm as she slid out of her seat. “I’ll walk you home.” He glanced at their friends, sending a subtle nod in their direction, before guiding her toward the entrance of the club.

“Really, Inuyasha – ” Kagome started, intending to tell him that it wasn’t necessary for him to lead her like a child, but she abruptly snapped her mouth closed when she swayed uncertainly, suddenly feeling nauseated from the alcohol and carbs. 

“Thanks,” she managed instead as they stepped out into the warm night air.

He simply squeezed her arm in response, offering a small smile as they turned in the direction of the metro. 

They made it onto the train without incident, but as they drew closer and closer to their destination, Kagome could feel it all coming back: her head growing heavy with tears, her stomach knotting over on itself. The sorrow she’d tried so valiantly to hold at bay all evening threatened to overwhelm her.

The two stepped out onto the platform at her station, but instead of heading for the exit with the rest of the crowd, Kagome slumped down on a nearby bench and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God,” she whispered brokenly to herself. Inuyasha was truly the last person she wanted to confide in, but he was the only friend she had at that moment – and it was all about to come out, whether she wanted it to or not.

“Kagome,” he murmured, brushing her hair over her shoulder as he sank down beside her.

An ugly, angry sob broke in her chest. “I’ve lost him, Inuyasha,” she wept, feeling her face heat and her chest constrict and her heart throb painfully against her ribs. “I don’t know what to do.”

He simply pulled her close, bringing her head down on his shoulder. “That’s okay – you just go ahead and cry,” he murmured. “I know that you’ve just been bottling it up all night.”

She curled into him and sobbed, crying until she physically _ached_ – until her chest was sore, until her face felt swollen, until her eyes had been rubbed raw. It hurt – oh, God, did it hurt – but at the same time, it felt so good to finally let it all out: her anger and frustration and helplessness, her sorrow and love and want, her stress and worry and anguish.

And he just let her cry, offering nothing more than a comforting arm around her shoulders. He didn’t judge her, or dismiss her, or even try to get in a few well-placed digs at his erstwhile half-brother, as was his wont whenever the subject came up. 

“Feeling better?” he asked softly, as her sobs quieted into sniffles.

She shrugged. “I guess,” she mumbled.

“Ready to talk about it?”

There was a hint of prickliness in his tone, as if he’d resigned himself to his fate. It was so different from the last time he’d comforted her after she’d fought with Sesshoumaru; she almost wanted to laugh at the irony.

Instead, she sighed. “He’s so blinded by his hatred right now that he can’t see anything else,” she told him. “This battle of wills has consumed him, and I’m afraid – I’m afraid it’s going to destroy him.”

“Meh.” Inuyasha shrugged. “My brother’s stubbornness will serve him well enough. He’s pretty clever about some things…” His voice trailed off she shifted away from him, hauling herself upright and smoothing her skirt over her legs. 

“…but he can be really fucking stupid about others,” he continued after a moment. “Why he can’t see how much you love him, I’ll never know – especially since it’s really damn obvious to the rest of us,” he muttered.

“Am I crazy to feel this way?” she mused aloud.

Inuyasha shrugged. “You love who you love – I don’t think you can control it.” 

“Mmm,” she murmured. After a moment, she stood, stretching her arms over her head, finally feeling the tension release across her shoulders. Inuyasha followed suit, tucking his hands into his back pockets as he watched her.

“I just wish…” She sighed. “I don’t know.”

The two headed for the exit, taking the stairs to the surface one at a time.

“Believe me, Kagome,” Inuyasha intoned as he hooked his arm through hers, continuing their sedate pace down the sidewalk, “if he has even an ounce of compassion, he’ll regret losing you. Our father could die tomorrow and leave him everything, and it still wouldn’t make him happy – because he wouldn’t have _you_ to share it with.”

Kagome tucked her hair behind her ear. “I wish I could believe that,” she said mournfully.

He considered her response for a moment. “Well, believe this – sometimes you have to lose something before you realize just how much you wanted it in the first place,” he replied.

A bitter smile curled at the corners of her lips as they crossed through the parking lot of her apartment complex. _Don’t I know it_ , she thought to herself. _I’ve lost him twice, and it only hurts even more this time_. Tears prickled behind her eyes. She wasn’t angry with him this time – she was afraid for him.

“Why can’t he just let me love him?” she whispered as they slowed to a stop in front of her door. “Why can’t that be enough?”

Inuyasha turned her to face him and gently clasped her shoulders. “Dammit, Kagome,” he swore softly, “I hate watching what this is doing to you. It’s not your fault he’s acting like an ass – you’re not the one who’s unworthy here, _he_ is.” 

He lifted a hand to cup her face, tracing the crest of her cheek with his thumb. “Has he really made you feel so undesirable?” he murmured, tilting her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. Before his intentions even registered in her brain, she felt the brush of his lips against hers, soft and sweet, sympathetic and comforting.

“You’re not, you know,” he whispered against her mouth. “You’re still _very_ desirable to the rest of us.”

He kissed her again, and she let him, twining her arms around his shoulders. In that moment, she needed to have her ego assuaged, her wounded pride soothed. His kiss wasn’t forceful or passionate, only pacifying – a nice little reminder of what it was to be wanted.

She allowed herself this indulgence, to be swept away in this moment…

…and neither of them noticed their sudden illumination in the headlights of a newly-parked car – or the horror-stricken golden gaze staring out at them from the driver’s seat.


	27. Clarity (Interlude)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #17 – “Wish I didn’t love you.”

**26\. Clarity (Interlude)**

All he could do was stare.

He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t look away.

All he could do was stare.

Stare, as Inuyasha wrapped his arms around her, his mouth parting from hers, trailing soft kisses along the line of her jaw, into the hollow of her neck. Stare, as Kagome leaned into his embrace, closing her hands behind his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

Stare, as the last vestiges of control slipped through his fingers.

Sesshoumaru turned off the ignition and killed the headlights. Her words from that afternoon came rushing back to him – _“Then you’re gonna have to learn how to yield, because when you break, no one is going to be there to pick up the pieces.”_ Well, he had no intention of breaking. In order to best his father, he had to be just as ruthless as his father. It didn’t seem like such a difficult concept to grasp.

But maybe, he considered, as he continued to stare at them, now shrouded in the darkness of the night, she hadn’t only been addressing _him_ with her words. Maybe she was trying to tell him that he wasn’t the only one in need of support at such a trying time.

Maybe, if he hadn’t been so single-mindedly focused on his own rage and frustration, she wouldn’t be standing on their doorstep right now, wrapped in his brother’s arms.

A myriad of emotions tumbled through him: shock, disgust, need, sorrow, anger. The urge to flee itched just beneath his skin, adrenaline suddenly coursing through him as the notion gathered traction in his gut. He didn’t _want_ to see this, and he didn’t _have_ to – he was sitting in his car, still buckled into place, his keys still dangling from the ignition. Clutch, brake, reverse, and he could be _out of there_ in less than a minute, free from the sickening scene before him –

– but he’d never really escape from it. The image of them – together – Inuyasha nuzzling her neck as she clung to him – was burned into his brain, and was fast becoming seared onto his heart. Is this what it felt like to truly lose everything? His family, his inheritance, and now – the woman he loved? 

_I didn’t know…that she was mine to lose_ , he realized belatedly, a tide of horror and anguish rising high within him. He’d worked so hard to protect his heart throughout this entire endeavor – from the pain of his father’s never-ending disapproval, from the knowledge of Inuyasha’s existence, from the disgust of Takeda’s treachery – that he hadn’t even noticed the cracks in his armor until now, until this – until he felt his heart break and shatter like shards of glass, each tiny, jagged piece a sharp reminder that _he had nothing_. Everything he’d been through over the last few years – every battle with his father, every sleepless night with his thesis, every fleeting moment of need and desire and lust, awakened in a heart long feared free of such feelings – had been for naught.

He was well and truly _alone_ in this world.

Was this to be his punishment, then? The knowledge that it would be Inuyasha who shared her bed that night – and possibly many more nights in the future? That his vile, half-breed, unwanted sibling would now and forever be under their roof, separated from him by one thin wall, celebrating the spoils of his unearned victory?

He reached for the door latch and pulled, pressing his car door open at the same moment that he heaved the contents of his stomach onto the ground below. The seatbelt cut painfully into his chest and abdomen, holding him partially in place, keeping him from doubling over into the pool of vomit. He pushed his hair back as he struggled to breathe, and to keep the rest of that day’s meals in place.

When he finally found it within himself to sit up again, he noticed that they were still there, standing outside of the apartment. He was still touching her, gently stroking her cheek as they talked quietly; she was nodding, and then turning away, opening the door – 

– and disappearing inside. Alone. By herself. 

Closing the door, leaving Inuyasha on their doorstep. Alone. By himself.

Sesshoumaru watched his brother carefully for a reaction, but there was little to be seen. Inuyasha rested his hand on the door for a moment, appearing to gather his thoughts, but then he simply stepped back and turned way, his expression thoughtful as he walked into shadows of the night.

All the same, Sesshoumaru stayed in his car, unwilling to join his flatmate in their apartment just yet. He waited for his brother to disappear, for the bile in his throat to settle back down into his stomach, for the heaviness of his head to recede as his emotions whirled into numbness. He pulled out a napkin from his stash in the center console, and unbuckled his seatbelt, so that he might search for the bottle of water from the emergency kit, which was hidden somewhere in the depths of the backseat. He moved slowly, feeling as though he was pushing through thick, tarry mud. Finally, he found the kit and extracted the water; finally, he was able to clean up, to rinse the horrid aftertaste from his mouth, and to wash away the remnants of his retching from the parking lot.

As he sat there, watching the last of the water trickle away, he thought about what had just happened. Somehow, Inuyasha had accompanied Kagome to their door, but had gotten no further than that. Her distress had been obvious, even in the dark…so why had she denied her comforter entrance? He was fairly certain that neither of them had realized that he had witnessed their little scene, so wrapped up in each as they were – but even if they _had_ somehow been aware of his presence, he doubted that would’ve stopped them. If anything, Inuyasha would’ve put up more of a fight, if only to really rub it in – Sesshoumaru’s loss as his gain.

But no. They’d parted company that evening. Maybe it was only because she wished to be alone.

Or maybe – just _maybe_ – it meant that he hadn’t lost everything just yet.

~*~

Sleep eluded him that evening.

It was not due to lack of trying on his part; he’d been very deliberate about his routine. He’d left his laptop in its case, putting it on the floor beside his desk with the bag containing the rest of his Genkin Katsuro business materials. He’d disrobed, changing into what passed for summer sleepwear and moving tomorrow’s clothes to the side in his closet. He’d opened his window and turned all of the fans, situating them so that air would circulate throughout the room. He’d even chosen the biggest, thickest, heaviest book from his bookshelf to accompany him to bed – _Ancient Greek Mathematical Theorems_ had never failed to send him straight to sleep. When he felt his eyes grow heavy, he tucked the book away, turned off his bedside light, and sank back into the mattress.

Only to lay there, like a stone.

He tossed and turned, stretching out this way and that, alternately tucking his hands beneath his pillows, curling into a ball, shifting onto his stomach – but nothing helped.

He could not sleep. His thoughts plagued him, restless and anxious and full of trepidation.

Finally, with a rather annoyed sigh, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps if he took the time to think through everything, in clear, precise terms, logic would trump emotion and he could get some damn rest.

At the top of his troubles list, perhaps unsurprisingly, was his father. Turning down the reigns of Taisho Industrial, the company that was to be his inheritance, had set his father on the warpath. He was to retire soon, and he wished to go out in a blaze of glory: as the most powerful man in the financial world, having taken down his biggest competitor in the twilight of his career. It would be a fitting end for a man who’d always worn his ambition on his sleeve, who’d always done whatever it took to get what he wanted, no matter what – or who – was destroyed in the process.

But Sesshoumaru had refused to play the part of a pawn, to have his inheritance in name only, to forever be under his father’s thumb. He’d had his own plans for conquering what was truly his – he’d taken a job with SHK, the only large, competitive holdings company in the country with an active mergers and acquisitions department. He’d learn the trade from his father’s biggest rivals, and use that knowledge to take what was rightfully his – to earn Taisho Industrial, and the rest of Taisho Enterprises – on his own merit, and on his own terms.

Sesshoumaru’s defection hadn’t dissuaded his father, however. He’d set his sights on Hidecki Financial Group, a small but powerful up-and-coming firm that was staking its claim on the market. If Taisho Enterprises could absorb Hidecki and its formidable investment bank, it could broker a hostile takeover of SHK that nothing – not even the market itself – could stop.

His father would win, and everyone else – including Kagome, who was poised to inherit SHK – would lose. Sesshoumaru didn’t care to contemplate what his punishment would be, what his father’s wrath could possibly dream up for daring to defy him so publically. Taking away what had always been promised to him would only be a start; it was a threat he’d lived with for most of his life. No, it was the unknown that he feared, understanding well his father’s ruthlessness. He would be made to pay for his rebellion, of that he had little doubt.

Once he’d learned of his father’s plans for Hidecki, Sesshoumaru had attempted to engage the interest of his supervisors at SHK, to be granted permission to dig into the little firm’s background and financials in order to discover why his father coveted so much. He’d been met with stark opposition from Takeda, the vice president in charge of the division of finance. Takeda was from the old school, a fiercely loyal careerman who’d served SHK for years, rising steadily through its ranks. His burning hatred for Taisho Enterprises permeated every aspect of his professional duties; he’d been vehemently against hiring Sesshoumaru during the internship process. When he realized that he was stuck with him, however, he’d taken great pleasure in spelling out just how much he loathed anyone associated with the Taisho name. Sesshoumaru walked a very fine line at work, knowing that one toe over would be grounds for insubordination in Takeda’s book.

In hindsight, taking the Hidecki proposal to Takeda himself had been a mistake. Of course it had been rejected out of hand. Of course Takeda had taken great glee in putting Sesshoumaru in his place and dismissing him with his tail between his legs (or so he thought). He hadn’t broken Sesshoumaru’s spirit, but he had spurred him into action. Without the help of SHK to stop his father, he’d have to go it alone.

The very same afternoon that his proposal was personally rejected by Takeda, he’d set up his own, independent trading company – Genkin Katsuro. He’d written the plans for it as part of his master’s thesis; all that was left to do was put it into play. Which he had – slowly, thoroughly, painstakingly. His days were spent at SHK, but his nights were spent at Genkin Katsuro headquarters, putting his newly-gained knowledge to work in a carefully thought-out plan. His company was a tiny fish in Taisho Enterprises’ sea; his father would underestimate its power, only to be blindsided when it bested him in the bidding war for Hidecki.

Night after night after night, Sesshoumaru worked, gathering his company’s potential in small yet powerful chunks. He’d invested in stable stock, plucking small holdings from larger firms, spreading his fast-growing wealth across the plate. He was operating under his father’s radar, just as he’d planned. Everything, in fact, was moving along perfectly in accordance with his strategy. He’d even opened a line of communication with Hidecki, expressing Genkin Katsuro’s interest in merging with them.

Only for disaster to strike, in the form of Takeda. 

The backstabbing slimeball apparently _had_ made use of Sesshoumaru’s proposal, looking into it on his own time before approving it and assigning it to his elite team of negotiators. Takeda might have hated him, but the same could not be said of Sesshoumaru’s coworkers. He’d worked hard over the course of his internship to gain their trust – and it had finally paid dividends, when his immediate supervisor just happened to mention, offhand, that the Hidecki proposal had been passed along. She’d remembered looking at Sesshoumaru’s application a month before, and thought he might be interested to hear that SHK’s negotiators were finally moving forward on a modified version of it. 

“Modified,” indeed – the only thing Takeda had changed was the name of the person who’d submitted the proposal in the first place. Sesshoumaru was unsurprised to learn that Takeda himself was taking credit for the idea. What _had_ surprised him was just how aggressively he was going after it.

The house style of SHK was very methodical, Sesshoumaru had learned. They tended to build a very solid offer from the ground up before making their first bid, which was generally half of what they were willing to pay. SHK liked to negotiate up, a unique feature that set it apart from its competitors – Taisho Enterprises included. This surprise tactic often worked to their advantage; rare was the time when they ever agreed to an offer that was as much as they’d budgeted for it. 

This was also the tactic that had enraged his father on more than one occasion, he’d discovered. Taisho Enterprises liked to bid hard and fast and snap up their stakes; his father ruled with an iron hand, but at his own personal whims. SHK hadn’t grown quite as quickly, but it did have a steadier foundation. Sesshoumaru had yet to have an impression that _anyone_ at SHK, much less the CEO, ever worked as hard or as long as his father did on the same deals.

Still. The fact that SHK’s opening bid for Hidecki was already five million yen above the going rate spelled trouble for Genkin Katsuro. It was an independent company, funded mostly by Sesshoumaru’s own personal wealth; though its portfolio was beginning to support itself, it would never be able to match bids that the more established SHK and Taisho Enterprises could offer, especially if SHK meant to drive the price up. Though being shut out of this deal would not doom Genkin Katsuro, it _would_ potentially harm SHK. Even if they made the winning offer on Hidecki, it wouldn’t stop Taisho Enterprises from brokering a hostile takeover.

His father would do anything to get what he desired, and he wanted to _own_ SHK, by any means necessary. Even if that meant selling off Taisho Enterprises’ assets, effectively destroying everything he could’ve left to his heir. It would be worth it to his father, of course: he’d have what he wanted.

Everyone else would lose, though. Not only would Sesshoumaru be cheated out of his inheritance, but Kagome’s would be taken from her as well. Who knew what potential price she’d have to pay in order to get it back – but it had been in her family for six generations, and supported hundreds, if not thousands, of livelihoods. Kagome’s heart was far too large – her capacity for compassion far too great – for her to simply stand aside and give it all up without a fight.

Takeda had no idea why his father wanted Hidecki, at least as far as Sesshoumaru could surmise. He’d simply seen interest in the company grow exponentially – Taisho Enterprises and Genkin Katsuro were hardly the only firms courting Hidecki’s favor at the moment – and had decided that it was worth getting on board. No doubt Takeda saw this bidding war as a way to stick it to Taisho Senior, which only made his entrance into this process all the more ironic: he had no idea just how high the stakes truly were.

Sesshoumaru did, however, and it only made his ambition burn brighter. His desire to best his father mingled with tenacity now that another heavy-hitter had entered the fray. He’d need his every wit about him – and, though he was loath to admit it, a bit of luck – if he was to win this war. It would mean buckling down, making riskier choices to keep his portfolio strong enough to stay in the running. It would mean extra security precautions, to keep his personal identity as deep under cover as possible – he didn’t want his father (or Takeda) to find out that it was _him_ behind Genkin Katsuro, not until after his company made the winning bid for Hidecki and had formally merged with them. He was running the risk of losing his job as well as his inheritance – and he had no backup plan.

He _had_ to do this. He had to be successful in this venture, if he wanted to have anything to his name at the end of it.

So many people were simply waiting for him to fail, to fall, to be put back in his place: his father. Takeda. Inuyasha – who had happily pursued Kagome in order to help further their father’s ambitions for her family’s company, who was obviously all too willing to continue his pursuit of her, if it meant taking yet another thing from him that Sesshoumaru held dear. He’d been given everything in life; must he have her, too?

 _Kagome_. Sesshoumaru sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Kagome, the pretty social butterfly who’d signed on to share his apartment a little less than a year ago. Kagome, with her sparkling blue eyes and short skirts and tantalizing smile, who’d pulled him into her whirlwind last Halloween with a last-minute party invitation that truly had changed his life. Kagome, who’d wanted him and left him and returned to him; who’d pursued him and kissed him and unlocked so many of his hidden recesses. Kagome, the first woman to show such intense interest in him – to give herself freely to him – to be his equal, in every societal measure.

Kagome, who had slowly but surely ingratiated herself into his life, until he couldn’t remember what it meant to live without her.

She wasn’t as innocent as the freshly-driven snow, but she had no ulterior motive. She didn’t need the power or wealth of his family or his name. She’d wanted him for _him_ , and had stuck by his side from the moment he’d let her in. Their romance had been short but intense, destroyed by lies and misdirection and betrayal; yet, they had never quite been able to let go of each other. They’d managed to weather the storm of their breakup, clinging to a tenuous link of friendship, and had steadily grown close again over the course of the last few months. She had a summer job at SHK, and they commuted to work together; she’d been there for him when he’d learned the truth of his father’s intentions against him (and SHK); she’d insisted on aiding him in this war of attrition. She acted as the intermediary between him and Inuyasha (who was supposedly spying on their father for him) and somehow, she’d made their uneasy truce work.

Was it possible – had they grown so close and comfortable with each other that he’d simply taken her for granted? She was always there for him, it seemed; she’d accompanied him into the depths of the public library, where he’d set up Genkin Katsuro headquarters; she’d taken it upon herself to act as his personal assistant in company business; she was _there_ , every single night, sitting by his side – tempting him, consoling him, supporting him. He couldn’t wait to be done with this business of buying Hidecki and defeating his father, because it would mean that he could finally give her the attention she deserved. He could finally show her just how much he loved her – just how much she’d come to mean to him – just how important she really was to him.

He could finally give her everything that he’d denied her in their first stab at a relationship – he could finally give her _himself_ , the entirety of his heart, his mind, his soul, his body.

He closed his eyes and thought back to their encounter earlier in the day, before it had turned ugly. He remembered every single touch – the softness of her hands brushing through his hair, the heat of her grip on his arm, the easy and unhesitating way that she’d embraced him, the moment he’d needed it most. He remembered the warmth of her arms around him, the way her fingers threaded through his hair, the way her body felt, pressed against his.

 _How could I not have realized it?_ he thought to himself, feeling his body heat along with the memory. In a world of people waiting for him to fail – there she was, offering her support so effortlessly, so easily, so quietly that he’d missed it completely. He’d taken her strength without hesitation, but also without comprehension.

She’d fortified his resolve, and he’d repaid her with selfishness. He’d meant what he told her – his loyalty was primarily to himself, and his number one goal was to stop his father, by whatever means necessary…

 _Oh, God_ , he thought, bolting upright, his breath suddenly short in his chest, _what have I done?_ He pushed away the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. _Who have I become?_

“The one person I never wanted to be,” he whispered aloud, in response to his own question. “My father.”

The realization made him sick to his stomach.

SHK might’ve simply been a means to his end, but it was her family’s company. Her father’s legacy. Her inheritance. Sure, perhaps she’d been helping him out of the goodness of her heart, but a larger part of it must’ve been for the same reason _he_ was fighting so hard: to secure the future. To keep SHK in her family, as it had been for the last six generations. She was the reason that he was even there, and she’d be the one blamed if the company fell, especially to their most hated business rival.

And what had he done? Disregarded her concern completely, so intent on following his own path that he didn’t care who was hurt along the way.

Just like his father.

She hadn’t slipped through his fingers this time – he’d pushed her away. Probably straight into Inuyasha’s arms – and straight into his father’s trap. After all, he wanted SHK any way he could get it, and if his original scheme of gaining it via a backdoor method of seduction worked? Well, at least he wouldn’t have to risk his own company in the meanwhile.

He pushed his hands through his hair as he stood, moving to stand beneath his ceiling fan. Would winning this war against his father be worth it, if he lost her in the process? Would finally having what was rightfully his make him happy, if he didn’t have her to share it with?

What would he do if she walked out of his life again? Could he figure out a way to live without her? Did he even want to try?

 _No_ , he thought to himself, casting a glance at the wall that separated her bedroom from his. _I can’t wish I didn’t love you – I can’t go back to that. I can’t lose you. Not now – not when we’re so close to having everything we ever wanted…_

“That is, of course,” he mused wryly, still eyeing the wall, “provided that you still want me as much as I want you.”

~*~

Being raised in privilege meant very rarely having to admit fault. He’d practiced his apologies as a child, of course, just as he had with all the other niceties that came with being a member of polite society, but he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d said those words and truly meant it.

He rose with the first rays of the sun, having barely slept at all. For a moment, he simply sat at the end of his bed, watching as the rosy pinks and yellows and oranges filled his room, inch by precious inch. He listened to the gentle rustle of the morning breeze just beyond his window – and the murmurings of neighbors only now making it home.

He quietly showered and changed, acutely aware of the silence emanating from Kagome’s bedroom. He wondered if she’d slept at all, or if she’d lain awake, like him, restless and upset and anxious about everything that had happened. He wondered if she was thinking of him – or of Inuyasha, instead. He wondered if she’d ever find a way to forgive him – or if she was making plans to break her lease and move out.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, of the solemn expression that had laid claim to his features. _I suppose I’ll find out soon enough_ , he mused, closing the last of the buttons on his shirt.

He padded through their common room and into the kitchen in stocking feet, picking up her tea kettle in one smooth, graceful motion on his way to the sink. He filled it with water and placed it on one of the burners, and turned his attention to her tea cabinet. Its contents had thinned as summer wore on; most of what was left was simple and light, generally of the breakfast variety. He peered into the back of the top shelf, reaching behind her boxes of baby green tea and English Darjeeling, and extracted a fragrant box of peppermint. _Must be new_ , he thought when he opened it, the bags still rather tightly packed, their minty scent still sweet-smelling and strong.

He took two and replaced the box in her cabinet, plucking two clean cups and spoons from the dish rack before settling himself at the table as he waited for the water to heat. He hadn’t been much of a tea drinker before she entered his life – tea being more of the common man’s drink – but peppermint had quickly become his favorite flavor. It had soothed his loneliness over winter break, and had comforted him through the lousy night of their breakup. 

If ever he needed fortification, it was this morning – and perhaps if she had a cup of tea in front of her, she’d be more amenable about listening to what he had to say.

The kettle whistled, and he shut it off, preparing his cup as he waited for her to show. The world was silent around him; he eyed the wisps of steam that rose from his cup, from the hot water hitting the cold ceramic. He let the tea steep until it was a rich, golden brown before taking a sip, the cool taste of mint a pleasing contrast to the hot liquid.

He waited for her with a heavy heart, unsure of what she might say or do when she saw him again. She always _wanted_ to ignore him after they fought, but was rarely successful at it – her eyes were far too expressive, betraying the emotions that simmered just beneath her surface. He closed his eyes and thought back to the day before, to the trepidation that had been shining so brightly in her gaze when she’d looked at him for the first time.

He could always tell when she was about to cry, too – he could see the tears glittering in the corners of her eyes moments before they fell, and how she sometimes fought them back, but sometimes let them flow freely. She’d cried yesterday, too, more in anger than sadness – and he remembered how he’d shielded himself from her pain, wanting no part of it, never realizing that he had, indeed, been the cause of it.

He sighed. _I’ve made a mess of it_ , he thought, taking another sip of tea, _and now I have to make it right_.

He’d spent part of his restless night trying to figure out how to apologize to her – what to say, what to do, how much to concede. He wanted to convey the depth of his sorrow, but without guilt, and without begging for her forgiveness. He wished for her to understand why he’d said what he’d said…but he wasn’t entirely sure that was possible. She was so sensitive to others’ needs, so caring and compassionate – so very much his complete opposite.

It was part of the reason why he loved her. She was worth fighting for – she was worth _waiting_ for.

Time seemed to crawl by as he sat and watched and waited for her. He listened for the subtle signs of her presence in the apartment – the creak of the bathroom door closing, the faint sound of the running taps, her footsteps as she crossed the hall back to her bedroom. He stayed the urge to get up and check on her, to look around the corner of the hallway from the entrance of the kitchen. 

He remained seated, draining the last of his tea, and waited.

Five minutes, then ten, then fifteen…

 _She isn’t coming_ , he realized after half an hour had passed. He didn’t know what to think – so he didn’t, moving through the motions instead: of rinsing out his cup, of reheating the water, of preparing the second cup of tea, pressing the curved end of the spoon down onto the bag as it steeped, just the way she liked it. He gathered his resolve before leaving the kitchen, carrying the cup of tea with him as he crossed through the common room, drawing to a halt in front of her bedroom door.

He stood there for a long moment, feeling the heavy thud of his heart in his chest, listening to the rustlings just beyond her door. He could hear her voice, low and muffled, moving around the room, and surmised that she was on the phone with someone. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up an image, but all he could see was the unrepentant sadness in her eyes.

He frowned.

After what felt like forever, her phone call seemed to end. Before he could change his mind, he lifted his hand and knocked, steeling his spine as he waited for her response.

A moment later, she was standing in the doorway facing him, lifting her eyes to meet his. It was just as he’d imagined – even with the rest of her expression a carefully blank slate, her eyes told him everything: of her pain, of her hurt, of her wariness.

“Kagome…” he started, only to feel his throat close up. The neckline of her t-shirt had been fashionably ripped out, the resultant oversized opening spilling over her shoulders, the satiny softness of her skin beckoning to him. His fingertips tingled with the anticipation of touch, but he resisted, knowing it would not be welcomed.

His eyes met hers once more. “I apologize,” he said softly, plainly, offering the cup of tea he still held. “For yesterday – for…everything.”

She nodded, drawing her lower lip between her teeth as she accepted the tea, bringing it close and inhaling its sweet fragrance. “Thank you,” she murmured, a small smile curving the corners of her mouth.

Before he could respond, her phone rang again, buzzing insistently on her bedside table. She hurried over to answer it, glancing at the caller’s information before flipping the phone open and pressing it to her ear. “Hi, Inuyasha,” she murmured, sending a long look in Sesshoumaru’s direction before turning her back to him and moving closer to the window, away from the door.

Whatever tension that might have been eased by their simple exchange of words suddenly returned with a vengeance, heating the air around him to the point of stifling. He narrowed his eyes as he regarded her, but said nothing, slowly pulling the door closed and granting her privacy once more.

 _If Inuyasha thinks I’ve given up on her, he is sorely mistaken_ , he thought, his hands curling into fists at his sides. _I will not simply stand aside and allow him to have her – he’s going to have to take her from me_.


	28. Culmination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #01 – “You were right about me.”

**27\. Culmination**

Sesshoumaru stared grimly at the computer screen, silently scrolling through the latest financial headlines. He also kept an eye on his inbox and another tab open to follow the overseas markets, some of which had yet to close for the week. It was a rather mind-numbing and time-consuming task, but taking such large risks required such close scrutiny. He’d made several purchases and trades that afternoon, all in an attempt to grow his company’s portfolio. It had to stay strong – and expand quickly – in order to keep up with the rumored amounts of competing bids for Hidecki.

It was the first time he’d been alone in his library carrel-turned-company headquarters for any extended period of time. Kagome had been with him from the moment he’d put Genkin Katsuro into play; she’d yet to miss an evening, even if she came late or only stayed for a few hours. He hadn’t realized just how much companionship she’d provided him, even in her silence. Her presence alone was enough to ease the tension that came with the territory of meddling in the financial markets – and, at the same time, it was so much more than that. She’d taken on an increasing amount of administrative work – and even claimed to enjoy it, organizing things just so, until it became a seamless addition to the elaborate system she’d set up with Inuyasha in order to trade confidential information. She was perfectly charming when it came to official company communications, far more patient than he for asinine emails or idiotic phone conversations.

But even on the calm and quiet nights, when she sat beside him and pored over charts and graphs and newspaper articles, or just held marathon texting conversations with her friends, her presence soothed him. Sometimes she’d ask, “Do you still need me?” to which he’d always answer yes.

 _I took her for granted_ , he thought wearily, flipping between browser tabs, spearing a handful of spammy messages and deleting them as they appeared in his inbox. _And I suppose that now I’m paying the price._

He wasn’t sure if she’d return, today or tomorrow or _ever_. She had herself to look out for, after all; she was fighting just as hard to keep her inheritance intact as he was. So what if they worked better together than apart? He’d pushed her away, and now he had to deal with the consequences. 

He’d left their apartment shortly after apologizing to her that morning, and had been working diligently ever since.

His stomach turned over on itself, a sharp reminder that he hadn’t eaten in several hours. He closed his eyes, absently smoothing one hand across his abdomen. _She even kept me sated_ , he mused wryly. _She did all of those little things that allowed me to concentrate on the big picture. What am I going to do without her?_

It was not a notion that he cared to contemplate.

With great reluctance, he began to consider his dinner options, becoming so caught up in his thoughts that he barely registered the soft knock on his carrel door. Not until it actually opened did he realize he was no longer alone.

“Hungry?” asked an achingly familiar voice.

He turned, his eyes widening imperceptibly as he caught sight of her, shock and adrenaline coursing through his veins. Kagome slipped into the room, gazing at him expectantly as she gently replaced the door in its frame. She held up a white plastic bag, laden with takeaway containers. “I hope you’re in the mood for Greek,” she added, her lips curving into a hopeful, hesitant smile.

His eyes traveled down the length of her and back, taking in her bright yellow tank top, her denim miniskirt, her black ballet flats – her toned shoulders, the hint of her bare midriff, her long, lean legs. His mouth went dry and his heart throbbed against his ribs, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he’d somehow managed to conjure her from his thoughts.

“You came back,” he sputtered, blinking rapidly as she advanced towards him, accompanied by the enticing fragrance of Mediterranean spices.

“Of course I did,” she murmured, drawing to a halt beside him, lifting her free hand to brush through the hair at his brow. He savored the fleeting touch, his eyes falling closed, twin waves of warmth and relief cresting through him as she sank into the chair next to his.

 _Thank you_ , he thought as he opened his eyes once more, watching her as she pulled two foil packets from the bag, along with plastic utensils and napkins. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” he said softly.

Her smile turned cheeky as she busied herself with opening the containers, releasing even more tantalizing scents into the air around them. “I couldn’t very well let you go hungry, now could I?” she teased.

He stilled her fidgety movements with one touch, sliding his hand over hers, the warmth from her fingers radiating into his. “That isn’t what I meant,” he replied, drawing her gaze to meet his, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Her eyes searched his for a long moment, a hint of a blush blossoming in her cheeks as she nodded, somewhat sheepishly. He resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her, if only because he had a hunch: once he started, he might not ever be able to stop.

She swallowed convulsively under the intensity of his study, averting her eyes back to the food. “I brought chicken divan, and a lamb gyro,” she said instead, her tone pleasant. “Your choice.”

His eyes never left her. “Why don’t we share?” he suggested instead, reaching past her for one of the knives.

She shot a startled look his way, another smile lifting the corners of her lips as he carved the chicken divan in half. “Okay,” she agreed, letting go of his hand and taking the other knife, folding the gyro to cut it.

They worked in companionable silence, arranging their plates, splitting the fries that came with the order, passing utensils back and forth, spreading napkins across their laps. He surreptitiously waited for her to take the first bite, knowing how much she adored Greek food – and he was rewarded with the sight of her blissful expression, her eyes falling closed as she savored the taste.

“Heavenly,” she declared with a delighted sigh.

“Indeed,” he mused as he gazed at her.

The food was quite good, he discovered, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as being in her presence, or the mutual companionship that descended upon them during their meal. He felt himself relaxing his guard as he had his fill of both, the tension easing from his shoulders.

“I talked to Inuyasha today,” she said casually as they finished the last of their dinner. “About your father, and his reaction to SHK suddenly joining the bidding war for Hidecki.”

“Oh?” he replied, striving to keep his tone neutral, and to not think about everything else they’d probably discussed since last night.

Kagome nodded. “He thinks that your father believes that SHK’s sudden interest in Hidecki is being driven by you,” she informed him. “He said that he overheard your father on the phone, talking to one of his associates about the ‘Hidecki issue,’ and that your name came up in connection with SHK several times.”

“Hmm,” Sesshoumaru mused, sitting back in his chair as he considered this tidbit of information. He thought back, digging into his memory for his own experiences with accidentally-on-purpose eavesdropping on his father’s business dealings. The elder Taisho had always been fairly savvy on the phone, using plain terms in an elaborate code. It wasn’t as complex as the cipher he used for internal memos and documents, much less his own personal notes, but he rarely said what he truly meant unless he was certain of his solitude and privacy in the moment.

Still…he probably considered Inuyasha a confidante, as the child that was, ostensibly, still working towards his best interests in all business – and family – matters. Was it possible that he’d let down his guard in the presence of his favored son?

“When did he say he heard this?” Sesshoumaru asked, not entirely sure that he trusted any information that Inuyasha had to pass along, especially after yesterday’s little display on their doorstep.

“This morning,” Kagome replied blithely, placing their used utensils and now-empty containers back into the plastic bag. “He said that he was returning some books to your father’s study – and that he was on the phone, with the chair turned away, towards the window.” She shrugged. “Inuyasha wasn’t sure your father even realized he was there, actually. He tried to be quiet, and to look really interested in the books he was returning, just in case.”

That’s interesting, Sesshoumaru thought, drawing to his mind’s eye the exact image painted by Kagome’s words. His father only turned his back on his study door when he was confident that he was alone – and would not be disturbed. He himself had pulled that ‘returning books’ ruse once – and the information he’d gleaned from the conversation he’d overheard _had_ come to fruition…

“Do you believe him?” Kagome asked skeptically, abruptly pulling Sesshoumaru out of his reverie. She, too, had leaned back into her seat, crossing her legs at the knee, her fingers worrying the hem of her skirt as she regarded him.

“I do,” he affirmed with a nod, sliding his eyes away from her hands. “Did he happen to hear anything else that might be relevant?”

Kagome pursed her lips before responding, her expression turning apprehensive. “Yes,” she finally confided. “Your father is going all in on his bid for Hidecki.”

Sesshoumaru wished he could’ve been surprised by this little bombshell, but he wasn’t. In fact, it was exactly what he’d been counting on. “Well, then,” he declared, sitting tall in his seat once more and turning to face the computer, “so are we.”

Kagome’s feet hit the floor with a thud beside him. “We are?” she faltered.

He turned his gaze to her, searching her features for a long moment: the shape of her brow, the glittering sapphire depths of her eyes, the sleek slope of her nose, the sweet bow of her mouth. His heart began to beat heavily and painfully as he regarded her, the same wave of trepidation rolling through him as he’d felt that morning when he’d stopped by her room to formally apologize.

“If you’re still with me,” he replied softly. “This is the only way that I know that we can succeed, both in stopping my father _and_ in saving your family’s company. If he thinks that I’m the driving force behind SHK’s bid, and he’s willing to meet that challenge head-on…”

She shrugged helplessly. “But what’s to stop him from selling off his assets and coming after SHK anyway, even if you win?” she inquired.

“Me,” he returned solemnly. “If I’m able to merge Genkin Katsuro with Hidecki, that will give me access to a formidable investment bank, and the means to challenge any move my father makes.” He looked back at the computer screen, determination filling his gaze. “By the time this is all over, he’ll know just exactly who it was who faced him down and won – and he’ll know that I am unafraid to challenge him, no matter how high the stakes.”

Her hand was warm when it fell on his arm, her touch igniting a bolt of fiery need that shot straight through him. “You’re willing to do that? For SHK?” she murmured, her tone somewhere between incredulous and astonished.

He swiveled towards her and leaned close, cupping her face in his hand, trailing his thumb along the crest of her cheek. “For you, Kagome,” he vowed, “I’d do anything.”

~*~

The bidding war for Hidecki seemed to follow the sun: the deeper into summer it went, the more heated it became. The boiling point was rapidly approaching; everyone could sense it, and they were acting accordingly. Long days turned into long nights, with tensions rising and spilling over into unrelated dealings. Takeda’s famously short temper only became more frayed; his disdain for Sesshoumaru sharpened with a vengeance as the weeks wore on. He labored to an almost ridiculous degree to keep his Hidecki proposal a ‘secret’ from its originator, and Sesshoumaru was content to allow him his delusion.

Sesshoumaru threw himself into the projects assigned to him by his immediate supervisor during his time at SHK, all too happy to have an excuse to steer clear of the junior vice president and head of the division. When the evenings rolled around, he retreated to Genkin Katsuro headquarters with Kagome, poring over the latest news and numbers; he snapped up the stocks and holdings that he desired the moment the markets turned in his favor, and they spent every second of their free time updating and refining their strategy.

Communications with Hidecki continued in earnest, albeit at a formally staid tempo; the sometimes glacial pace of negotiations grew increasingly frustrating, given the heated battle that was the driving force behind them. Slowly but surely, however, smaller firms began to drop out of the race, narrowing the unlikely courtship to three suitors: Taisho Enterprises, SHK Corporation, and Genkin Katsuro.

The stress and strain were beginning to take its toll. Not even in the depths of his work on his master’s thesis had Kagome ever seen Sesshoumaru like this – tense, overworked, anxious, exhausted. He pushed himself with a singular driving force, the likes of which she’d rarely ever witnessed. Somehow, he managed it – each long and increasingly-stressful day at SHK, followed by every increasingly-later evening at his carrel-come-office. His focus never wavered, even if his body eventually did.

She had never seen him so close to tears as she did during those long, late nights. His emotions rose to the surface as the hours waned, frustration and anguish breaking through his usually impassive expression. More than once, he’d abruptly stood up and walked away; more than once, he’d slumped over the keyboard, in misery and exhaustion, only to somehow find a way to gather his composure once more and press forward in relentless pursuit.

It was difficult to not be in awe of him and his dedication to their cause. Slowly, the rest of Kagome’s life began to slip away as she spent more and more time at Genkin Katsuro headquarters. She took over all official communication, working her vivacious personality to their full advantage, snaring and keeping the interest of their growing network of contacts. She supported him – figuratively, but also literally, with soothing words and calming caresses, with gentle stirrings and appeasing reminders to eat, to sleep, to take breaks for his sanity (and hers). She was _there_ , as much as he’d let her be…and that allowance was only increasing as their nights together grew in number. 

Now, when they finally stumbled home to their apartment in the darkness of the night, he would take her into his arms and simply hold her, as if she was his anchor in this raging sea of chaos and uncertainty. 

She relished those moments of closeness, of their connection, of the heat and nearness of his body, of the memories it evoked: of their first, searing, breath-stealing kiss; of waking up in his arms all those months ago; of his solemn promise to do _anything_ for her. Any lingering worries or doubts of his feelings for her melted away with each welcomed embrace.

The final barrier around his heart was crumbling, and she vowed to be there the moment it fell for good.

~*~

The call came when she least expected it.

She was standing at the counter in a jewelry store with Miroku, looking on with excited anticipation as the salesclerk withdrew the beautiful diamond engagement ring she’d selected from the case in front of them. “Isn’t it breathtaking?” she sighed, only too happy to allow him to carefully slip it onto her finger.

“Gorgeous,” Miroku agreed, taking her hand in his, turning it this way and that to catch every angle in the light. He glanced up at his friend with a somewhat amused expression. “But are you sure this is something that _Sango_ would like?”

Before Kagome could respond, her cell phone vibrated and danced across the glass countertop, indicating that she had a call. “Let me just take this,” she demurred, turning away from Miroku and the salesman. “Hello?”

“Kagome,” came the breathless response. “It’s me.”

“Hello, you,” she returned cheekily, masking the sick turn her stomach had taken when she’d glimpsed at the caller info before answering the phone. “What’s up?”

“It’s time,” Inuyasha panted. He was trying to speak quietly, but he was also breathing heavily, as if he was sprinting. “The Hidecki deal – it’s happening. Soon.”

Kagome’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” she hissed, moving further away from her companions in a bid to keep her conversation private. “When?”

“I don’t know,” Inuyasha admitted, still breathless, “but there was – a memo. I just – dropped off a copy – at the mailbox – for you.” He suddenly stopped, his breathing growing muffled for a long moment before he came back on the line. “I’ve got to go. This just went down, I’m talking fifteen minutes ago, and I wanted to tell you as soon as I could. This shit is important, and it _really_ can’t wait.”

“R-right,” Kagome sputtered, blinking rapidly. “I’m on it.”

She snapped the phone shut, her grip on it turning clammy as she hastily replayed their conversation in her mind. She’d known the end was nigh – the battle for Hidecki couldn’t drag on forever – but she hadn’t exactly expected this.

She _had_ to get that information to Sesshoumaru, pronto.

She thought fast, plastering a bright smile on her face as she turned back to her confused and concerned companions. “Honestly, Miroku?” she purred, advancing on him, “I doubt I could decide which one I like best _right at this moment_.” She made a show of admiring both of her hands, each of which was adorned with a prospective engagement ring. “They’re both so enchanting.”

“Ah, I’m happy to hear that, mademoiselle,” the salesman intoned, a pleased look lighting his expression.

She speared him with her most charming, pleading gaze. “Would it be possible to take these out on loan? Just for today?” she cajoled, batting her eyelashes at him before turning to Miroku. “I’d love to see them both in all sorts of lighting conditions, to help me make up my mind.”

Miroku stared at her suspiciously, not buying her sudden, syrupy-sweet shift in personality. “I don’t want Sango to see them,” he countered. “This is _supposed_ to be a surprise, you know.”

“I know,” Kagome wheedled, “and I promise, no one is going to see them, except me.”

“Well…” Miroku shrugged, glancing at the clerk, who had picked up on his misgivings. “If we come back in the morning, would that be okay?”

The salesman turned back to Kagome. “There’s a forty-five percent deposit of the purchase price to loan our pieces out,” he informed her crisply, quite certain that this would dissuade her from the notion.

She simply smiled instead, pulling out her platinum credit card and slapping it down on the counter in front of him. “Put it on my tab,” she returned sweetly. “Both of them.” She loved nothing more than to shatter others’ preconceived notions of her wealth and power, especially when she was dressed in a casual, skimpy outfit, as she was today.

The clerk struggled to contain his reaction. “Yes, mademoiselle,” he choked out, scuttling off to charge her card.

Miroku took the opportunity to pounce. “Kagome, what’s going on?” he asked quietly, drawing her away from the counter. “Is everything okay?”

She smiled as she hastily stuffed her phone back into her purse. “Yes,” she replied, striving to keep her tone casual and even. “Suffice to say, I think this business with Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru is about to clear up.”

He regarded her shrewdly. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t _blow_ up,” he mused as the clerk came back into view.

Kagome plucked her credit card from the man’s hands and slipped it into her bag. “It won’t,” she promised her friend as she turned to leave. She glanced over her shoulder and sent a winning smile to the clerk. “I’ll be back at eight o’clock sharp, recommendations in hand!” she pledged, hastening out the door.

Once she hit the sidewalk, she broke into a run, excitement and nervousness swirling through her chest. On one hand, she was happy for this entire endeavor to finally be over, but at the same time – she couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious as well. It seemed rather abrupt, to suddenly stop in the middle of the negotiations like this. She knew that Sesshoumaru was anticipating at least one more round of bidding, if not two.

 _Is this a good thing, or a bad thing?_ she mused to herself as she hustled into the post office and checked her box. As promised, there was a new piece of mail, a thin envelope that had been hurriedly shoved into place. _Does stopping now work in our favor, or against us?_

“I guess we’re about to find out,” she murmured under her breath.

~*~

Kagome managed to calm herself by the time she returned to SHK headquarters. She slipped into her uniform and picked up her cart of afternoon deliveries as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She kept her pace calm and steady as she worked her way up to the third floor – and to Sesshoumaru’s office. Just as she came to a halt in front of his door, raising her hand to knock, a voice rocketed down the hall at her.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” came the imperious command.

A bolt of disgust shot down Kagome’s spine as she looked up, meeting Takeda’s disapproving glare. He was standing further down the corridor, closer to his own office; he was holding a stack of papers, an open folder balancing precariously on top, as if he’d just happened to look up while he was in the middle of something.

“My job,” she returned brusquely, gesturing to her mail cart, still laden with packages. “Why is it any of your concern, Mr. Takeda?”

His face pinched into an irritated expression as he moved towards her. “ _Everything_ that goes on in this division is my business,” he snapped, “and I know for a fact that we are not expecting any deliveries today, for _any_ reason.” He narrowed his eyes, his features taking on a truly fearsome cast. “We are here to _work_ , Ms. Higurashi, not _fraternize_ – and the moment I catch you two – ”

“You’ll what?” Kagome interrupted, adrenaline coursing through her body as she steeled her spine, meeting his haughty stare with one of her own. “Have me dismissed? I think not.” She sniffed disdainfully. “I’ll thank you to remember _who I am_ , Mr. Takeda – as well as your place in speaking to me.”

He glowered at her, and she could practically see the retorts rising to the tip of his tongue – but he didn’t dare voice any of them, knowing full well that he was speaking to Satoshi Higurashi’s daughter, eldest child, and heir. His face turned three shades of red in his fury, but he simply turned on his heel, huffing off without another word.

Kagome released a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding before turning back to Sesshoumaru’s door. She quickly regained her composure as she knocked and waited to be bidden entrance, just in case any other prying eyes were watching her.

She slipped into his office when invited, surprised to see that he’d swiveled around in his chair, a curious expression gracing his features as his eyes lit upon her. “Hello,” he greeted her, amused. “You have something for me?”

Her heart gained traction in her chest as she returned his appreciative gaze. _Do I_ , she mused to herself, absently licking her lips, visions of just what exactly she’d like to give him – in the privacy of this room, behind a closed door – racing across the back of her mind. She couldn’t resist smiling at him as she drew close, enjoying the way his eyes followed her across the room. “I don’t think Takeda will be bothering you any longer,” she murmured.

“So I presumed,” he replied, his eyes dancing with mirth, “after overhearing that. I only wish I could’ve seen the look on his face.”

“It _was_ rather magnificent,” she mused in agreement, leaning against his desk, “and _way_ beyond overdue.”

“Thank you,” he returned, teasing her with an alluring smile. “I’ve never had anyone defend my honor before, even implicitly.”

She resisted the urge to slide into his lap and give him the opportunity to _really_ thank her, though she did allow herself to imagine it. Heat blossomed in her core as her thoughts began to slip away, conjuring memories of the night before, and their ever-lingering embrace at the door…

“Kagome?”

She startled, shaking herself from her daydreams. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, she was surprised to find concern glittering in his golden gaze. “Has something happened?” he prodded.

She nodded somberly as she reached into the front pocket of her uniform, withdrawing the envelope that Inuyasha had left for her in their box. She handed it to him wordlessly, watching with bated breath as he pulled out the memo and read it.

He frowned, his eyes falling away as he contemplated its contents.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, suddenly pushing to his feet. He disappeared through the door of his office without another word.

When he returned, several minutes later, his expression was grim. “It’s true,” he informed her quietly as he slid the door closed behind himself. He indicated the single sheet of paper he held with a short nod. “The Gold Team has just received word as well.”

Apprehension filled her as he returned to his desk and settled into his chair. “So what, exactly, is going on?” she asked.

He sat back in his seat. “Hidecki’s board of directors has filed its Position Statement with the Prime Minister’s office,” he informed her. “That means that all negotiations have officially ended, and that they’ve chosen the offer they are willing to accept.”

She felt her gut clench. “…and that is?” she prompted.

“I don’t know,” Sesshoumaru admitted, looking up at her. “None of us know yet. Hidecki has ten days to make their decision known to the public.”

Kagome’s jaw dropped. “Ten _days_?!” she echoed incredulously. “You can’t find out any sooner than that?”

He shrugged, though his impassive expression belayed the nervous apprehension evident in the lines of his body. “Hidecki is under no obligation to inform any of the firms whose offers they didn’t accept of their decision before that information is made public.”

“Great,” she muttered with a sigh, slumping against the corner of his desk. She eyed him for a long moment. “Who do you think they chose?” she ventured.

His gaze turned contemplative. “I’m not sure,” he mused. “It’s reasonable to assume that both my father and SHK’s negotiators offered Hidecki a package deal – a mixture of cash and securities, or perhaps even an exchange of stock. Both companies are so large that it would be difficult to raise enough cash in hand to buy them outright.”

He shifted in his seat. “I, on the other hand, could _only_ offer them cash, as well as the promise of a vertical merger,” he continued. “Both Taisho Enterprises and SHK want to absorb Hidecki completely, whereas – if they merged with _my_ company – they would retain their own identity.”

A flare of hope lit in her chest. “Your offer sounds the best to me,” she commented.

He didn’t appear to be as convinced. “It depends on what they’re looking for,” he countered with a shrug. “A parent, or a partner.”

“Oh,” she murmured, feeling her optimism slowly deflate. She worried the edge of her lower lip. “So what do we do now?”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “We wait.”

She exhaled sharply. “Damn.” _Talk about the epitome of hurry up and wait_ , she added silently, absently starting to fidget with the unfamiliar jewelry still adorning her hands. She wasn’t even aware that she was doing it until she felt his hand envelope hers, lifting it and bringing it closer to his purview. 

“What’s this?” he asked, brushing his thumb across her knuckles as he gazed into the sparkling diamond, set in a classic platinum band.

“An engagement ring,” she replied, adjusting the band so that the stone was centered on her finger.

His expression was unreadable as he stared at the ring. “You’re engaged?” he asked softly, striving for a neutral tone but not quite finding it.

“What? No!” she yelped, spearing him with a horror-stricken look. She reached for him, brushing the fingers of her free hand through his hair before trailing them over his temple, prompting him to lift his gaze to meet hers. She knew him well enough now to catch the hints of shock and hurt that touched his features. “Oh God, Sesshoumaru, _no_ ,” she reiterated.

He averted his eyes and dropped her hand, picking at the edge of the discarded envelope on his desk instead. An awkward, unbearable silence rose up around them.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, you know,” she said gently after a moment. “I…” _I love you_ , she wanted to say, only to feel the words stick in her throat.

“I’m not ready to get married,” she continued instead, gazing down at the rings in quiet contemplation. “And sometimes it’s hard to believe that my friends _are_. That’s what these are for – Miroku’s going to propose to Sango at the end of the summer, and he asked me to help him pick something out.”

Sesshoumaru nodded. “I came quite close to proposing to my ex-girlfriend,” he revealed, rather abruptly, “until I found out what sort of woman she really was.” A small, sad smile crested his lips. “I’d even chosen a ring.”

Kagome swallowed convulsively, absolutely stunned by his words. “Oh?” she choked out. He’d never spoken of his exes before, and she’d never heard tell of them, either. For as long as she’d known him, he’d been a loner – having little need for friends, much less a lover. “What was it?”

“A diamond solitaire in a platinum setting,” he replied wryly. 

Kagome cleared her throat. “Well, then,” she murmured, shifting her gaze to the amethyst set in yellow gold on her right hand – the ring that had been Miroku’s choice – “I think I’ll tell him to pick this one instead.”


	29. Proclamation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #03 – “This cancels out the hurt.”

**28\. Proclamation**

Time seemed to slow to an agonizing standstill.

Routine had never been as comforting to Kagome as it was then, so ingrained in her that it was effortless to move through the motions of day-to-day life. It was hard for her to think of anything other than the way Hidecki held her future precariously in balance. Had the day finally come when they would release their decision – or at the very least, notify the firm whose offer they’d decided to accept?

She walked around in a daze half the time, numb with dread and anticipation. Her phone became an extension of her right hand, always at the ready to receive the news, no matter what time of day – or night. She texted Sesshoumaru every afternoon before she changed out of her mail clerk uniform to find out if he’d heard anything from the SHK Gold Team; she answered Inuyasha’s nightly calls before the phone even had the chance to finish ringing.

Every day without an answer only worsened their collective trepidation.

She and Sesshoumaru would retreat to the makeshift Genkin Katsuro headquarters every evening, to stare at the turnover of financial headlines – and at his inbox. Even knowing that the news was imminent, he wasn’t yet ready to give up the protection of the library’s shared IP address. He wanted to see this through to the very end – to have control over the revelation of his corporate identity, if nothing else.

Every night that they returned to their apartment without answers, she’d fling her arms around him and press herself against him the moment they crossed the threshold. He accepted the comfort she offered without protest, holding her close, threading his fingers through her hair. She understood his frustration all too well, because she herself felt it in spades. Their lives had been reduced to waiting, and wondering, and worrying.

July slowly morphed into August. The sweltering heat of the summer began to set in, the humidity turning oppressive as it blanketed the city. It was all she could do to resist the urge for a second shower before changing into her uniform at work every morning. Evenings offered a welcome respite – the sun sank below the horizon and took away the sting of the heat; the carrels, in the basement of the library, were relatively cool and comfortable.

They had only just walked into Genkin Katsuro headquarters one evening, settling down at the old computer terminal, when their business line abruptly began to ring. Kagome and Sesshoumaru eyed each other in surprise before turning their collective attention to the mobile phone buzzing on the desk.

Kagome’s heart lodged in her throat. _It’s been seven days_ , she thought, her hand finding Sesshoumaru’s beneath the desk. She gave it an impulsive, supportive squeeze as she lifted her gaze to meet his. _Is this it? Are they going to finally put us out of our misery?_

She swallowed hard. “Should I answer it?” she asked him softly. Normally she’d grab it up after the first ring – she took great pride in her organizational and administrative prowess – but something had stayed her hand this time. 

He glanced at the phone. “No,” he murmured, taking a moment to gather his composure before picking it up.

“Genkin Katsuro,” he said crisply, rising to his feet and turning away from the computer – and his companion. He listened for a moment. “Speaking,” he continued, taking a couple of steps away, his free hand coming to rest on his hip. 

One thing was rapidly becoming clear, if only from Sesshoumaru’s terse silence: this was it. They would know, by the end of the evening, just what fate held in store for them.

Kagome chewed on her lower lip as she listened to his side of the conversation, taking the opportunity to study him from her perch at the desk. His hair was up in its now-familiar style, pieces of it spilling out of the hastily constructed half-ponytail. It was the only thing disheveled about him, however – even in the mugginess of the summer, he still managed to be elegant, cool and crisp in a light-colored linen-blend suit. He’d taken off his jacket, revealing the Bemberg-backed shell of his waistcoat, and had rolled the sleeves of his starched white shirt to his elbows. Her eyes continued their leisurely tour, her gaze lingering and appreciative as she traced the lines of his body, so well-framed by his suit’s exquisite custom tailoring. 

He usually inspired her towards sophistication in her own clothing choices, but the weather had trumped refinement for her, of late. She craved the cool breathability of cotton to combat the heat and humidity, hence her own sensible ensemble of a halter-style tank paired with a pleated miniskirt. After days spent suffering in her coverall-style mail clerk uniform, there was nothing better, in her estimation, than sliding into light, simple clothing that left her feeling practically naked.

It was all she could do now to keep her hands to herself, to resist the overwhelming urge to reach out for him, to touch him, to make some sort of physical contact with him in the midst of this intense, emotional moment. Her fingertips began to tingle with the anticipation of touch, but she refrained from the temptation, instead pushing her hands through her hair, scraping it up from the back of her neck, and tried to distract herself with a plot to steal one of his hair ties.

Even if she’d _wanted_ to move, she couldn’t; her legs felt like lead, weighing her down, rooting her to the seat of the straight-backed chair. The longer he stood with his back to her, the longer he held the seemingly one-sided conversation on the phone, the harder her heart seemed pound against her ribs, and the heavier her stomach felt, as if it was laden with stones. She felt herself teetering on the knife’s edge of sanity, almost afraid to breathe. Their lives hung in the balance – her inheritance and his; their futures, and Inuyasha’s.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the call came to an end. “Thank you very much,” Sesshoumaru murmured, his words slicing through the air and pulling her back to the surface of her thoughts. She watched him as he slowly lowered the phone to his side, heard a distinct _click_ as he flipped it closed. He was silent for a long moment, simply standing there, his hand still planted on his hip, his head bowed, exposing the delicate arch of his neck.

“Well?” she prompted after an agonizing moment, her voice sounding strangled to her own ears.

He released his breath, slowly pivoting on his heel to face her. “They’ve accepted our offer,” he informed her quietly, his voice not much above a whisper, the shock of the news still evident in the lines of his features.

Her heart stopped, and then suddenly started to beat frantically as she stared at him, dumbfounded. “W-what?” she choked out, desperately hoping she hadn’t mistaken his words.

A hint of a smile curved the corners of his mouth. “They’ve accepted our offer,” he repeated, laying the phone on the desk next to the computer. He pointed to the monitor screen; when she looked, she could hardly believe it: a new email had just appeared in the corporate inbox, its bold-faced subject line screaming CONGRATULATIONS right before her very eyes.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, feeling the weight of the world lifting away, a wave of excitement and pleasure and relief crashing over her in its stead. “Oh, _my God_ ,” she said again, a bit louder this time, breaking into a wide, satisfied grin as she clambered to her feet and turned to him.

“ _Ohmigod_!” she squealed, launching herself at him, closing her arms around his shoulders. “We did it! We _did it_!!”

She curled one hand curled into his hair, pulled taut at the nape of his neck, and pressed herself close, her other hand sliding down the long, lean planes of his back to his waist. “ _You_ did it,” she corrected herself softly, turning her face into the hollow of his neck, her breath soft against the shell of his ear. “Sesshoumaru…”

“Kagome,” he whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheek. She leaned into the light caress, lifting her head slightly – just enough for his lips to find hers in a searing, breath-stealing, pulse-pounding kiss.

For a moment, she could only stand there, arrested by the fiery rush of heat and raw need that suddenly burned between them. She felt the fine shimmer of shock that coursed down his spine as he pulled her body flush to his, as he slanted his mouth over hers, finding a deeper, more satisfying angle.

Heat blossomed in her core, radiating up through her chest, spreading down the lengths of her arms as she clung to him, fighting to kiss and speak and breathe, all at once. He only seemed interested in the first, securing one arm around her waist as the other swept across her back, his hand clasping her shoulder, holding her in place.

“Forgive me, Kagome,” he mumbled between kisses, sounding not the least bit sorry, “for I’ve forgotten my place.”

“What?” she breathed, muddle-headed, not completely sure that she’d heard him correctly…and, all the same, not really caring. She’d wanted this moment way too much – and had waited for it for far too long – to even contemplate letting it end now, for _any_ reason.

Not that it _felt_ like he wanted it to end, in spite of his apology. The hand at her shoulder drifted into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her, easing her mouth open, his tongue finding hers. At the same time, he leaned into her, until she could feel the smooth buttons of his waistcoat pressing into her torso through the thin material of her tank, until she could feel the weight of his body on top of hers, the sensation instantly filling her mind with images of heated, urgent, passionate sex, rendering her breathless with want and need.

She stumbled backwards, and he followed, his hands sliding down around her hips as they continued to kiss. She was brought up short by the desk, its blunted edge jutting into the backs of her legs; she had only enough time to reach back and sweep away the clutter before he lifted her up and gently deposited her on the worn wooden surface. She parted her legs, inviting him closer as she raked her hands down the planes of his back and took hold of his backside.

Her bold move prompted him to break the kiss; he heaved a long, jagged sigh against her cheek. “Kagome,” he whispered in a rush, his voice heavy and full as he held her close. “Oh, God, I want you so much.”

His words ignited the heat in her core, causing it to pool like liquid honey in the cradle of her pelvis. “I want you, too,” she breathed in response, her tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth as she rocked her hips into his.

He shuddered, exhaling sharply. “But – I have to know – ” he faltered, “ – about you – and Inuyasha – ”

She furrowed her brow. “What about us?” she broke in, lifting her hands to frame his face, to keep him close, lest he try to pull away.

He swallowed hard, his eyes slipping shut, as if the question was too painful to even contemplate. “Are you – ?”

“We’re _friends_ ,” she assured him softly, pressing an errant lock of hair behind his ear, only to feel the brace of his arms tighten around her. “We’re friends, and nothing more than that, because he knows…”

She leaned back slightly, tracing the tiny lines of anguish that deepened his brow, first with her eyes, and then her fingers. “He _knows_ that – you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” she confessed in a rush. “You are _everything_ to me, Sesshoumaru. The way I feel about you – ” 

Her words suddenly lodged in the back of her throat.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone else,” she finally managed. “ _Anyone_ ,” she reiterated, twining her hands into his hair, giving it a gentle tug to emphasize her point.

He opened his eyes, his brow softening as his golden gaze met hers. “You humble me, Kagome Higurashi,” he murmured. “I don’t deserve you.”

She smiled softly. “Yes, you do,” she replied, lifting her mouth to meet his in an inviting, heartening kiss. He held her there, his lips soft and pliant on hers, drawing out the promise that lingered between them. One kiss cascaded into another, long and slow and deep, simultaneously soothing and stoking the need that burned within her. His hand drifted down to caress her leg, his touch easy and gentle as he inched higher and higher underneath her skirt. As desperately as she desired to have him inside her, she could feel the urgency for that moment slipping away beneath his touch, the feel of his mouth – and his hands – smooth and warm against her skin. It was absolutely intoxicating, and breathtaking, and electrifying.

She wanted it all: the mad, passionate sex; the quiet, smoldering love; the ardent, fervent, emotional explosion that was sure to accompany both.

She wanted him, and he wanted her, and finally – _finally_ , they were free to acknowledge their love, and to indulge it. There was no doubt in her mind that the moment she’d longed for – that beautiful, glorious, earth-shattering moment when they finally came together, body and soul – would be worth the angst and the pain she’d suffered for the better part of a year.

 _I love you_ , she thought, tightening her grip on him as she leaned back, enjoying the trail of soft kisses he pressed along the column of her throat, the hand on her thigh subtly urging her legs further apart. _Don’t stop…don’t ever stop…_

The rude buzz of the library’s warning bell startled them both, slicing through silence of the carrel, an unwelcome reminder of their reality.

“ _Nooo_ ,” she moaned when he drew away, curling her nails into his sides to hold him in place.

“ _Yesss_ ,” he teased, his breath warm against her mouth, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

She cracked her eyes open. “You want to stop?” she questioned softly as she looked at him, at the desire that darkened his golden gaze into a deep, rich amber.

“No,” he admitted, “but if given the choice, I’d rather not continue here.” He kissed her again, seemingly reluctant to completely part ways with her just yet.

She seized upon his hesitation, closing her knees around his hips as she chased his kiss with one of her own. _I’ve wanted this for so long_ , she thought stubbornly. _I don’t care where it happens – only that it does_. “Please, Sesshoumaru,” she whispered, her words fierce though her tone trembled, “don’t deny me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he replied, nipping at her earlobe, causing her heart to skip a beat. “But not here – not like this.”

His words made her stomach turn over on itself, inadvertently sending her back to a moment in time she’d rather forget: her first, failed attempt to seduce him after he’d rescued her from a drunken escapade. She bit her lip as he disentangled himself from her, concentrating instead on the desire that still swirled inside her, pressing her legs together in a vain attempt to quell it.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down as she slid down from the desk, busying herself with gathering the papers she’d so carelessly swept aside before. It was hard to believe that it was over – 

– that _they’d won_ – 

– that everything had worked out just as she’d dreamed and hoped and wished it would. 

It hardly seemed real, and yet: it was.

~*~

Never before had the trip from the public library to their apartment complex felt quite so long or arduous.

Somehow, they managed to gather themselves and get out of the library just in time – Kagome could hear the faint click of the doors automatically locking behind them as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. She barely registered the rumbles of thunder in the distance as they turned towards the metro station. She wasn’t completely sure that her feet were even touching the ground – she hadn’t felt this light or free in ages, and she’d never felt so confident and yet, so peaceful in the presence of another. She constantly snuck peeks at Sesshoumaru as they made their way to the metro, marveling at his ability to seem so calm and in control. Only the hint of the smile that touched the corners of his mouth belayed his satisfaction – that, and the firm grip he kept on her hand.

He was not a man who was naturally inclined toward public displays of affection, so it was to her surprise – as much as her pleasure – that he held her as possessively as he did once they were on the train platform. He circled his arm around her waist, hugging her hip against his as they pushed through the sea of humanity around them, trying to find a spot near the front. It was one of the last trains out of the city for the evening and thus, a raucous crowd surrounded them. 

The metro roared into the station, and everyone tried to move at once: people pushing their way off collided with those rushing to claim a spot on board. Sesshoumaru and Kagome were no exception; they elbowed their way inside, maneuvering towards the center of the car. The seats were full, so he claimed a spot against one of the vertical rails in the middle, looping one arm around the pole and gathering her close with the other. 

He narrowed his eyes, surveying their surroundings as the doors closed and the train began to move. “Sardines,” he muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on her as the crowd crushed them together. 

Kagome smiled in response, burying her head in his shoulder and closing her arms around his waist. For once, she was content to wait.

The metro stopped at each station between their destinations, screeching to a halt at seemingly every platform it passed, before slowly building speed and taking off once more. It was difficult to resist the temptation of his body pressing into hers with each jarring, jerky movement of the train, so she stopped trying. She reveled in their closeness, sliding her hands around the hem of his waistcoat, running her fingers along the seam that joined the linen fabric in the front with the Bemberg shell in the back.

He responded to her ministrations, closing his arm around her waist and giving her hip a light squeeze, yet his expression remained impassive. Even with all of the stops so far, the crowd around them had yet to abate, and he apparently did not wish to attract any undue attention. She could understand that – normally, she hated standing within touching distance of anyone in the hot, stifling metro car, and did her best to shrink away and avoid even accidental brushes with her fellow passengers.

There was something about him, however – she couldn’t seem to _stop_ touching him, even when social propriety demanded it.

 _Well, he broke the rules first_ , she silently contended, enjoying the possessiveness of his hold on her, her hands moving away from the seams of his waistcoat. She found the buttons in front, drawing the nail of her thumb along each rounded curve, and she simultaneously leaned into him, planting a soft kiss at the base of his neck.

Her gaze flickered up; she watched him carefully to gauge his reaction to her teasing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly, but he continued to stare into the middle distance, his features schooled into the bland expression she knew so well.

Emboldened by his acquiescence, she pressed another kiss to his neck, turning her body ever so slightly into his. A wicked notion suddenly took hold of her mind; her heart began to throb as she contemplated it, and she kissed him again, slightly higher this time, as she gathered her courage. She tried to envision what she wanted to do, but she couldn’t – every time she closed her eyes, she only became more aware of him and her body’s reaction to him. Heat spiked between her legs as she thought of the kisses in the basement of the library.

Her eyes still closed, she let go of the last button of his waistcoat, sliding her hand lower, smoothing it down the front of his trousers until she could feel the weight of him in her palm. She exhaled sharply as his nails dug into her hip, breaking her hold on him as he suddenly shifted beneath her.

“Well, now,” he intoned, sweeping her hand up and away from such dangerous territory, “what’s this?”

“You started it,” she managed to reply, touching the hand still firmly gripping her hip, his hold on her so firm that he was threatening to inadvertently reveal her underwear. She hooded her eyes as she gazed at him, her lips curving into her most seductive smile. “And I dare you to finish it.”

He lifted an eyebrow as he relaxed his hold, his golden eyes filled with mirth. “Some of us prefer to exercise exquisite control,” he returned, leaning into her, his breath tickling her ear, “until just the right moment.”

She swallowed hard, her heart still pounding in her chest – and reverberating elsewhere. “But it’s been five long, lonely months,” she purred, lacing their hands together.

He furrowed his brow as he drew away from her. “…since March?” he mused, realization dawning in his expression. “Since…” 

_Since Inuyasha_ , she silently amended. 

She nodded somberly. “It was a mistake,” she murmured, “a horrible, _horrible_ mistake.” She shook her head. “And before that, the last time…” She flushed. “…was before I even met you.”

He squeezed her hand, his gaze turning serious as he regarded her. “Why are you telling me this now?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

She shrugged. It was an awkward time – not to mention _place_ – to suddenly break out her sexual history, she had to admit. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, a tide of embarrassment rising high within her. She didn’t regret her past, but she desperately didn’t want him to think badly of her for _having_ one. This was the one corner of his life that was still completely dark to her, and suddenly, she was filled with unease to even contemplate it.

The metro screeched to a halt at its next scheduled stop, and the pressure of the crowd finally seemed to lessen. Kagome took a step back, but Sesshoumaru held firm, taking both of her hands into his. She couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his gaze; instead, she eyed the floor, listening as the doors closed and the train began to roll forward again, picking up speed as it continued on its way.

“It’s been awhile for me as well,” he said quietly, breaking their uncomfortable silence. “Much longer than five months.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “How long?” she asked softly. It was almost strange to hear him speak of his love life in any capacity – he’d kept this part of himself so tightly under wraps, until now. She’d only just learned of his last relationship, which had been serious enough to make him contemplate marriage. She couldn’t help but wonder just how deeply it was buried in his past, and how much it ending had hurt him, considering his previous reluctance for physical intimacy.

“Nearly four years,” he confessed wryly. “I might be out of practice.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes widening as she absorbed his reply. She could barely even fathom a four- _month_ drought, much less four _years. No wonder he speaks of exercising exquisite control_ , she thought, the very notion of it causing her to quiver with anticipation. 

“Well, you’re doing fine so far,” she teased with a heated smile, drawing close to him once more.

“So I surmised,” he replied with a smirk, wrapping his arms around her waist. He gazed at her for a long moment, his study so intense and assessing that she felt herself blush again.

Just as she opened to mouth to question him, he spoke again, his voice quiet and low. “Do you have – protection?”

She nodded, feeling a wave of relief cresting over her. “I’m not ready for marriage, and I’m _really_ not ready for babies,” she assured him with a laugh. When he didn’t immediately respond in kind, her jaw fell slack. “Is that going to be a problem for you?” she ventured.

“No,” he replied swiftly, a small smile gracing his features as he hugged her close.

The train pulled into the station at its next stop, which was theirs. They waited for the others who were also trickling off the metro to leave before stepping out onto the platform themselves. Their pace was steady and sedate as they climbed the stairs, their arms entwined as they enjoyed the rare, cool breeze that wafted down at them from the surface.

Kagome leaned in for a kiss as they emerged on the top of the landing, but Sesshoumaru abruptly pulled away from her. When she opened her eyes, she realized why: rain was falling steadily before them; thunder rumbled in the distance, promising serious return.

“Of all the times for it to rain,” she groaned, casting a sidelong glance at him. She furrowed her brow when she realized that he was sliding out of his suit jacket. “What are you – ?”

Her half-asked question was answered when he held the jacket aloft, moving closer to her so that she, too, would be shielded from the oncoming storm. She took hold of the side closest to her, more than happy to lean into him, and felt his arm curl protectively around her waist, pulling her close once more.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I want you in my bed, but not because you’re sick,” he murmured, sending a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine.

“Well, far be it from me to deny you,” she teased, circling her free arm around him in kind. “Let’s go.”

~*~

Kagome fought to suppress her giggles as she stood beside Sesshoumaru on the doorstep of their apartment. They were both completely soaked through; the rain had started falling harder and faster than either of them had anticipated. It was pouring down on them in sheets now, soaking through the hapless linen jacket they still held over their heads.

Sesshoumaru was struggling with his keys, unable to keep a firm grip on the slippery metal. He shot Kagome a dirty look when she started laughing, but she couldn’t help herself – he was cursing under his breath as he tried to put the correct key in the lock, twisting and turning each to no avail. Finally, he managed to triumph, and the two of them spilled unceremoniously into their foyer as the door gave way.

She shivered in the comparatively cool air of their entryway. His jacket slid down over her shoulders as he let go of it, the whole of his attention still focused on the door, at the moment. She turned, groping her way over to the metal hooks in the darkness, and slid the waterlogged material away from her body, shivering again, in spite of herself, and hung the jacket up on the closest one. It was probably going to make a huge mess as it dried, but she couldn’t really find it within herself to care, at the moment.

Faintly, she heard the lock on the door click into place, and she smiled when she sensed his approach. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and for a long moment, he simply held her, warming her from within. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the back of her shoulder as his hand slid down between her legs; she exhaled sharply as he gave her a long, experimental stroke through her panties.

“Kagome,” he murmured, sounding far more amused than he had any right to be, “you’re soaking wet.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was another long, ragged sigh as he stroked her again. Heat flooded through her core and she struggled to keep her wits about her. “So what are you going do about it?” she finally choked out, her knees going weak when he found her clit.

His movements suddenly stilled, and she could almost see his inquisitive expression in the darkness. “Is that a challenge?” he mused, flicking his thumb over her clit again, spending another spasm of pleasure and need rocking through her.

Her hands joined his under her skirt. “No,” she contended between shallow breaths, hooking her thumbs through the waistband of her underwear, peeling it over the curve of her hips and sending it straight to the floor. “It’s an invitation.”

He growled in response, a sound of purely masculine pride and possessiveness, as his fingers met the slickness buried beneath her mound of curls. Her sighs turned into soft, needy moans when he dipped a finger inside her; the arm still at her waist tightened around her as her knees threatened to give way completely. She leaned forward, bracing herself against the wall next to his jacket, and her hands stole down to cover his, between her legs, encouraging his teasing fingers until she almost couldn’t stand it anymore.

She abruptly pushed him away, shifting against the wall so that she faced him, her breath still short in her lungs as waves of heat and need radiated through her. Her clothes felt damp and slick against her skin – partly from the rain, but also because of him, the way his merest touch made her squirm and writhe and whimper with pleasure. 

She reached for him, and he was there, his mouth finding hers in an urgent, needy kiss. She clutched at him, curling her arms around his shoulders, her fingers tangling into his hair. A thin sheen of sweat beaded on her forehead as she fumbled with his hair ties, releasing the heavy curtain to cascade over her hands, soft and silky and dry, in stark contrast to the cold, soaked fabric still plastered to their skin.

His hands were on the backs of her thighs now, the caress both loving and possessive; he parted her legs around himself as he hoisted her up against the wall, pressing his still-clothed form into her. She could feel the evidence of his arousal, hot and hard and insistent, his hips already moving against hers, sending delightful sensations of texture and heat coursing through her. 

“Release me,” he whispered against her skin, trailing light kisses down the column of her throat, his tongue laving over her collarbone as his hands slid down, cupping the backs of her knees. “I want to feel you from the inside.”

Her breath shuttered in her lungs as she absorbed his heated request, his mouth finding hers once more. She trailed her fingers through the long, silvery locks of his hair, followed the smooth planes of his back, yanked the tails of his shirt free before bringing her hands around between them. She tried to concentrate on her task, but it was so deliciously difficult – their bodies moving together, his mouth hot on hers, the contrasting feel of their clothing against her bare skin, and the way his hands were stroking her legs.

 _I don’t believe this, I don’t believe this…_ Her thoughts raced across the back of her mind, almost faster than she could form them, as she struggled with his belt, the button, the zipper of his trousers. How long had she wanted this? How many nights had she spent alone, dreaming about this very scenario? Her heart skidded with pleasure, but she had no time to linger. Just as she broke through, just as she closed her hands around him, he lifted her up and buried himself inside her, pressing her against the wall and exhaling hard against her neck.

Her breath was short and sharp in her chest, giddy excitement rising through her as she marveled at just how amazingly well they fit together. She hooked her legs around his waist, allowing his hands to roam free. His fingers crested over her, smoothing over her arms, her sides, her breasts, raking down her abdomen before finding her hips once more, digging and pressing and rubbing, sending yet more spasms of pleasure rocketing straight to the core of her being. It was all she could do to hang on and breathe and mewl with pleasure, her body already spiraling out of control with each thrust of his hips into hers. 

There was something reckless and thrilling about it, fucking fully-clothed in the entryway of their apartment. Their rhythm was primal, urgent, almost frantic, as if their bodies were desperately trying to make up for lost time, for the long months and weeks and days robbed of physical contact. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, a clammy contrast to the cold rain still clinging to her clothing.

She curled her hands around the collar of his shirt, burrowing her fingers under the curtain of his hair, now plastered to his face and neck. “Harder,” she urged breathlessly against his lips, digging her nails into his shoulders, his arms, raking them down his sides. He complied with her wish, his mouth finding the curve of her neck, nipping lightly against her skin. One hand grasped her leg while the other rose to find and cup her breast through her tank, and her mind was lost to all coherent thought, a slave to the sensations rocking through her.

Vaguely, she felt him peak, felt his hands on her hips once more, sliding down to draw her knees further apart, widening her stance. He groaned aloud as his climax hit, his head falling into the hollow of her shoulder, his breath hot and hard against her still-soaked top, causing her to shiver and sweat and writhe beneath him. It was enough to send her tumbling over the edge; the last thing she clearly remembered was the wonderment of him, filling her seemingly beyond capacity, and how desperately she wanted that moment to last forever….

When she finally came back to her senses, she found herself still against the wall, but curled in a tender embrace, his lips warm and soft on hers. “Kagome,” he murmured, sliding his thumb over the crest of her cheek, his fingers splaying into her hair. “I…” His words trailed off as he kissed her again, nipping gently at her lower lip.

She lifted her arms, heavy and leaden, to encircle his waist, her hands smoothing up the planes of his back as she yielded to him. _Is this a dream?_ she wondered hazily, losing herself in the sweetness of the moment.

A sensation of sticky wetness trickled down her inner thigh, and she grinned wickedly against his mouth.

Oh, no – this was very, _very_ real.


	30. Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un_love_you prompt: #30 – _(Author’s Choice)_ – “I’ll take your invitation, if you’ll take all of me.”

**29\. Passion**

Kagome smiled indulgently as she rested her head on Sesshoumaru’s chest. They lay, half-naked, on the floor of their common room, curled together beneath her favorite blue blanket. She had no idea how long they’d been there, basking in their afterglow – and, quite frankly, she didn’t care. The night was dark and still, the rain having long since dissipated.

She sighed contentedly, drawing her fingers over his skin in long, languid motions, following the lines of his torso, cresting over the smooth, taut cords of muscle that crisscrossed his abdomen. Her hand trailed into the far open half of his shirt as her eyelids grew heavy, but she valiantly fought the urge to sleep. Not that it was too terribly difficult – every time she closed her eyes, she found herself reliving their frenzied encounter by the door.

Even after endlessly dreaming of, and fantasizing about, and yearning for that very moment, it had still totally blown her mind. It had been quick and awkward and over far too soon, but it had given her a contact high nonetheless. It had also taken her longer than it should have to realize why: it was about more than just being sober, feeling attracted to her partner, being ready and willing and eager to lose herself to sensation. It was about the intensity of the moment – the way they couldn’t stop kissing – the way his climax had ignited her own. 

It was the way she felt when he was inside her…like he completed her. 

Every aspect of the experience of having sex had been heightened, making her wonder if she’d been sleeping with strangers her entire life. It was a little scary to contemplate – but, paradoxically, it turned her on in a major, practically insatiable way. Round two had been just as satisfying, albeit a little less frantic (though just as intense), and horizontal instead of vertical. It amused her that they hadn’t yet managed to completely undress each other, and she was beginning to suspect it was because he liked it that way.

Or maybe it meant that they weren’t yet finished…

Her heart skipped a beat as she contemplated the notion. _Thank goodness for IUDs_ , she mused silently as she pressed a kiss to his chest. The fleeting touch caused him to shift slightly beneath her, curving his arm around her waist and drawing her into the hollow of his hip. She lifted her head, propping herself up on one elbow so that she could gaze down at him.

His eyes were still closed, his expression one of deep satisfaction as his hair fanned across the carpet around him, shimmering softly in the glow of the overhead fluorescents. She touched his face, brushing aside errant, silky strands from his brow before tracing his fine, elegant features with her fingertips.

“Sesshoumaru,” she murmured, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she leaned closer to him, trailing a finger along the curve of his lower lip.

“Hmm,” he breathed, the hand at her waist sliding down over her backside and giving her a gentle squeeze.

She shivered beneath the intimate touch, pressing kisses along the line of his jaw as she pushed aside the collar of his shirt. “Can we stay like this forever?” she wondered aloud, laving her tongue over the curve of his shoulder and relishing the way his breath seemed to quicken in response. 

“Hmm,” he mused, his hold on her tightening, causing her to part her legs as he drew her body into his. “I think, eventually, we should get up from the floor.”

She chuckled, the low, throaty sound reverberating through her and into him. “That’s not what I meant,” she chided softly, laying one leg on top of his as her hand skimmed down the length of his torso. She continued her light, tantalizing kisses, trailing over his collarbone and down the column of his throat, causing his chest to rise sharply beneath her touch. She glanced up, gauging his reaction to her teasing, loving the way his eyes were still closed, yet his lips had parted, his breath steadily growing heavier.

It pleased her to watch his expression change in response to her movements, to see the desire he felt for her so blatant in his features. Heaviness pooled in her belly as she closed in on her prize, as her hand slid through fine, coarse hair at the base of his cock, as she encircled it, giving him an experimental stroke. She already knew, even without having seen him totally naked, that he was a grower instead of a show-er, which suited her plans perfectly fine. She could see it so clearly in her mind’s eye – how easy it would be to tease and taunt and excite him before sheathing him to the hilt – and the very idea sent a rush of fiery need shooting straight through her.

Her breath was deep and unsteady as she contemplated the thought, but before she realized what was happening, she found herself flat on her back with her hand pressed between her own legs instead of his. Sesshoumaru lay on his side beside her, his arm pinning hers in place as he gazed at her with amusement. “Are you that voracious?” he mused aloud, stroking her hand with his.

She pouted. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No,” he replied, leaning down to kiss her. “It’s just that some of us have to pace ourselves.”

She held him there, returning the kiss, curling her free hand around his neck. “You’re the one who made me wait for almost a year,” she reminded him softly, nipping at his lower lip. 

“True,” he conceded, “but that’s not a debt I intend to pay in one evening.”

She exhaled sharply as she felt his hand closing over hers at the apex of her thighs, manipulating her fingers against her warm, slick folds. He continued to kiss her, long and slow and deep, parting her lips, his tongue stroking the underside of hers. Her legs fell slack as she relaxed into the floor, welcoming his nearness, even as he teased.

She could feel the tip of his erection stirring against her hip as their hands moved between her legs – her thumb finding her clitoris; his fingers stroking her inner thigh, drawing her legs further apart. “Show me,” he whispered against her lips as his hand joined hers once more. “Show me your pleasure.”

Heat poured through her body in response to his request, and she lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes were hooded, but his interest was apparent in his expression, the corners of his mouth curving up as he watched her. His breath was warm against her cheek, his lips soft on hers as he kissed her again, gently – almost reverently.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he murmured, his hand rising to stroke her arm as she continued to pleasure herself. “This is my second favorite fantasy.”

She exhaled sharply, her hips arching up. “S-second?” she choked out.

He nodded. “Yes,” he breathed, closing his hand over hers and gently directing one of her fingers inside herself. “If it isn’t me satisfying you, then it’s you – it’s _always_ you.” He nipped at the corner of her mouth. “I wonder how accurate my fantasies have been?”

She needed no further encouragement. Her eyes slipped shut as she continued, sliding a second finger into her warmth, rubbing her thumb over her clit. Spikes of intense pleasure rocked through her as he continued to kiss and caress her, as she felt the heaviness of his arousal, so tantalizingly close and yet – so far.

Her breath was short and sharp in her chest as she imagined him fantasizing about her. It made her feel incredibly sexy and flattered and excited to know he’d harbored such intense desire for her. How long had he felt this way? How often did he think about it? Just contemplating such notions turned her on even more, making her need for release that much more urgent.

 _Her_ favorite fantasy starring _him_ took place in the shower – together or alone, it didn’t matter. There was just something about the heat, the steam, the rivulets of water cascading down into familiar and unfamiliar places… She pictured it now – him, in the shower, under the water, thinking about her, fantasizing about her, steam rising around him as he took himself in hand –

She moaned as she brought herself to release, her hips arching off the floor as her muscles spasmed around her fingers. Her pulse was racing, her breath short in her chest, and she fought to control her reaction. She’d already had sex with him – _good_ sex; frantic, intense sex – so why did this orgasm feel – so – _strong_?

When she finally managed to crack her eyes open, she realized – quite stunningly – that she was alone in the room, on the floor, under the blanket. A horrible, nauseating thought struck her – _could it all have been a dream_? She sat up way too fast; it took a moment for her equilibrium to settle, but then she spied his jacket, still sopping wet, hanging on a metal hook in the foyer. Closer inspection revealed rainwater pooling beneath it – and her panties nearby, carelessly flung aside.

She smiled to herself as she waited for her heart to slow its rapid pace…and became aware of the faint sound of running water. She stood, on shaky legs, and ventured down the hall, reassurance mounting as she approached the closed door of the bathroom and heard the muffled sounds of the shower.

 _Sounds like my fantasy became a reality, too_ , she thought to herself, prickles of satisfaction scoring her spine.

She never wanted this night to end.

~*~

Kagome wrapped a towel around herself, securing it with a quick fold as she studied herself in the steam-laden mirror. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection, at her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, and she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing away the tangles that always seemed to set in immediately after her showers.

She had to admit, it felt good to wash away the rain and sweat and stickiness of the day – and it was probably for the best that they’d bathed separately, considering her absolute inability to keep her hands off of him. And, because she’d already done it, she wasn’t tempted to linger and fantasize about him while standing under the warm flow of the water. No, instead she could concentrate on herself, on how alive and invigorated she felt, even though she was closing in on twenty-four straight hours of being awake. 

Her heart quickened in her chest as she stepped out of the bathroom. She had little desire to cross the hall back to her own room, to brush her hair and change into proper pajamas and crawl into her bed, as was her normal routine. _He’s not going anywhere_ , she reminded herself, but she couldn’t stop the tide of longing that washed over her – to touch him, to hold him, to be by his side, to feel the warmth and solidness of his body next to hers. Perhaps it was the lunacy of still being awake so deep into the night, but even the thought of being separated from him by one thin wall was too much to bear. It made her feel silly, but also afraid. Of any relationship she’d ever had – of any man she’d ever been with – no one had ever made her feel the way he did. None of them had made her _crave_ his nearness, or the way she felt when she was with him:

Desired. Serene. Whole.

Fulfilled.

She shivered, clasping her arms around herself. She’d been acutely aware from the start of just how deep her feelings for him ran, but somehow, even now, she still felt unprepared for it – for the hidden emotions it stirred in her, feelings she’d never had before and didn’t quite know how to deal with. 

Her eyes trailed down the hallway toward his bedroom. She’d only ever been in that room once, and only after she’d forced her way inside. It was his sanctuary, a place to which she’d never been invited. Even after everything they’d been through that year (and that evening) – after everything they’d done together (in the library, in the foyer, in the common room) – she still wasn’t sure that she would be welcome there.

It was his refuge, it was the place where he escaped from the world, it…

Its door was slightly ajar, a thin sliver of light beckoning to her.

She hesitated, her heart throbbing against her ribs as she moved to the end of the hall, her hand shaking slightly as she clasped the knob. She pushed the door open wider, just enough to slip her foot into the room, and to peer inside.

Her breath caught as she surveyed the scene before her. Cream-colored walls were the backdrop of the simple yet elegant space, accentuated by his richly appointed furniture – the desk she’d once searched for clues of disloyalty sat opposite a large wood-framed bed; shelves of the same, dark-colored wood lined three of the walls, all of them filled to the brim with books and music. Hunter-green drapes lined his window; a matching duvet covered his mattress. It was all immaculate, clean and organized and neat as a pin.

And yet, as beautiful as her surroundings were, her eyes still riveted almost immediately to him. She watched as he carefully lit the wick of a jarred candle, crossing the room to set it atop his bureau, its golden glow immediately illuminating the darkened corner. She quickly realized that _all_ of the light in the room was coming from candles and lamps, each placed strategically to brighten the space, yet keep the cozy ambience.

She smiled, absolutely enchanted by his painstaking attention to detail. “And here I thought you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body,” she intoned, her eyes trailing after him as he went back to his desk and picked up another candle.

“I don’t,” he replied, sparing a glance at the ceiling, at the light fixture attached to the overhead fan. “I’d just rather not be in the dark.”

She lifted a brow, unconvinced by this line of reasoning, and reached for the light switch beside her on the wall. A mild wave of surprise rolled over her as she flipped the controls, only managing to turn the fan on and off, causing the candles to flicker – and Sesshoumaru to smile.

She flushed, dropping her eyes as she clutched her towel around herself, worrying the seam under the edge of her thumbnail. He seemed oblivious to her sudden awkwardness, lifting the candle he held to eye level as he adjusted the volume on his stereo system. The sweet, soft strains of Tchaikovsky’s _Sleeping Beauty_ ballet seeped into the room from the surround-sound speakers.

“And the music?” she ventured, feeling heartened but curious as her gaze settled upon him once more.

He took a deep, contemplative breath, his eyes falling closed as he slowly exhaled. “I find it quite soothing,” he finally said, opening his eyes as he turned and held out his hand to her. “Don’t you?”

She felt her breath catch as she stared at him in response, at the serenity of his expression; at the way his hair fell over his shoulders in a cascade of molten silver, the long, tousled locks grazing his waist; at the way his skin glowed in the candlelight – his face, his shoulders, his chest, his arms; at the way the flickering flames threw his regal features into high relief against the shadows; at the way his eyes seemed to penetrate hers, even from across the room.

Suddenly, everything coalesced as she stood there, taking it all in – the room, the mood, the music – and _him_ , clad only in light linen pants, his arm extended, his head tilted slightly as he regarded her. This was his invitation: into his home, his sanctuary, his refuge, his life – 

– his heart. 

She couldn’t even identify all of the waves of emotions swiftly crashing through her, all at once, closing her throat and choking way her air: love, relief, joy, anxiety, disbelief, anguish, fear, desire… She trembled under the weight of it all, her lips quivering as she lifted her hands to cover her face, unable to stop the tears that spilled over her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his tone more curious than concerned as he closed the space between them with long, languid strides. He reached for her, cupping her face in his hand, trailing the pad of his thumb over the crest of her cheek.

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t speak – all she could do was fall forward, into him, as her knees threatened to give out from under her. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close, dropping a kiss into her hair. The warmth and comfort of his embrace was enough to strengthen her tears into sobs – but only for a moment. She worked to catch her breath, to quell the rapid pace of her pulse; she swallowed hard over the lump that had risen in her throat, and tried to put it all into words.

“It’s you,” she managed to choke out, “and me – and this” – she gestured helplessly – “and – _everything_.” _It’s love_ , she amended silently, resting her head against his chest and threading her fingers through a nearby lock of his hair. She could hear the beat of his heart, its cadence steady against his ribs, and she let the soothing rhythm seep into her, calming her.

He simply held her for a long moment, his hands warm and soft in her hair, across her back.

“You amaze me,” he finally said, the words reverberating into her. “You amaze me, and astonish me, and humble me, Kagome.”

She furrowed her brow, wiping away the tracks of her tears as she looked up at him. “What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.

His gaze was thoughtful as he drew away from her, taking her hands into his and gently tugging her into the room. “You amaze me,” he explained, brushing an errant lock of hair behind her ear, “with your passion, your enthusiasm, your experience…” His voice trailed off suggestively, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You allow yourself to feel so deeply, so ardently, so _completely_ – and you’re unafraid to show it.

“You astonish me,” he continued, sliding his hand down to caress of her cheek, his fingers trailing even lower, over the line of her jaw, “because even though you possess all of these qualities, it’s apparent that you have never truly been _loved_.”

Her heart skipped a beat as his fingers swept down over the curve of her neck, following the line of her shoulder, his touch light yet electrifying, raising gooseflesh in its wake. “And you humble me,” he added, his voice a low rumble, “for letting me be the first.” 

He smoothed his hands down the lengths of her arms, his expression turning incredulous. “How is it that you, the veritable whirlwind, have made it this far into life without knowing what it means to love – and be loved?” he mused.

She dropped her eyes, lacing her fingers through his, unsure if he even wanted an answer. Whether he did or not, he was going to get one. 

“I was so afraid,” she confessed in a whispered rush. “After my father died, watching the way the vultures descended on my mother…” She shuddered, tightening her grip on him, directing her words to the floor. “They only wanted one thing from her – the power he once wielded.”

She shook her head, feeling the sharp pang of sadness and fear roar up within her. “I never wanted to make her mistakes,” she admitted, “to give my heart away and give someone the chance to break it. I had to be _so careful_ – I could never let anybody get close enough to do that to me – to hurt me.”

He lifted their joined hands, breaking away to slip his arms around her, bringing her close as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “I can understand that,” he acknowledged softly. “I’ve known that pain, and you were right to be cautious.” He sighed, the rush of his breath warm against her lips. “The last woman…”

She curled her arms around him, her head falling into the hollow of his neck as she brought his body flush to hers. “You wanted to marry her,” she mused aloud, the words sounding utterly strange as they tumbled out of her, only to be countered by a swift rush of possessiveness. It was hard for her to fathom him as anyone other than _hers_ , such was the depth and ferocity of her feelings for him. She dug her nails into his back. Suddenly, she had to know: just how close had she come to not even knowing him at all – to possibly missing out on the love of her life? “What happened?”

“She broke my heart,” he replied matter-of-factly, his tone sad, if resigned. “She used me to further her own position in life, and tried to leverage the power of my father’s name to her advantage. Mercifully, I found out before it was too late…” 

He sighed, falling out of her arms and sinking down onto his bed. “It was hard to let her go,” he admitted, staring into his hands, now curled in his lap. “Even though she hurt me so deeply, so _thoroughly_ – I still loved her.”

Kagome felt her head growing heavy with tears again. “Do you still love her?” she whispered, her eyes falling away from his, locking onto the bow of his lips as she awaited his answer.

“No,” he responded, oblivious to the rush of relief that swept through her. “And until I met you, I was certain that I’d never love again.” He looked wistful as he reached for her, closing the space between them. “That’s why…”

“Why what?” she prompted.

His expression turned wry as he ran his hands down her sides. “That’s why I was alone for four fucking years,” he mused sardonically, taking hold of her hips and bringing her forward, “and why I kept you at arm’s length from the start.” He circled his arms around her legs, and he rested his head against her belly, squeezing his eyes shut. “I didn’t want to fall in love again.” 

She exhaled slowly, warmth blossoming where his temple met her abdomen, and she relished the way it rose up through her torso and into her chest, her neck, her head – into the very roots of her hair, causing her scalp to tingle. She savored the sensation, and the way he held her, so vulnerable and trusting. She touched him tentatively, one hand brushing through the crown of his hair as the other traced the sweep of his jaw to his ear, her fingers sinking into the lush, silky curtain of silver. “I’d apologize,” she offered with a small smile, “but I’m not sorry it happened.”

“I am,” he murmured, his expression sobering as he drew away from her, smoothing his hands up over her hips. “If only for not telling you before why I would never – _could_ never – sleep with you.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and whatever mirth she might’ve felt drained away as she held his gaze, so somber and serious. 

“When I’m with someone, I want to be with them completely,” he told her, his hold on her firm as he rose to his full height. “You awakened in me emotions I never thought I’d feel again – feelings that drove me to distraction, at the most inopportune times.”

He lifted his hands to frame her face. “But I wanted you enough to let it happen, because I thought I could control it,” he continued, running his thumb over her lower lip, “even though I knew that I was keeping something so vitally important from you…” He closed his eyes, pain lancing his features as his voice trailed off. 

“But no matter how much I wanted you, I couldn’t give in to that selfishness, and allow myself to hurt you,” he informed her, meeting her gaze after a long moment. “Because I know what it feels like to be used – and I know what it feels like to lose someone.” 

He brought her close, sliding his hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head as his lips met hers in a kiss laced with sorrow, and promise. “I didn’t want to lose you,” he admitted.

She curled her arms around his shoulders, digging her fingers into his skin where she held him. “I don’t want to lose you now – not again,” she whispered, unable to conceal the anxious fear in her voice.

His lips were soft against the curve of her chin, following the line of her jaw, finding the supple skin just beneath her ear. “You came back, and gave me a second chance,” he breathed, brushing her hair away to expose the delicate arch of her neck, and to plant a kiss there. “I will always cherish that.”

She trembled as she stood there, tightening the brace of her arms around him as he continued to caress her, sliding kisses down the column of her neck. Her breath was short and sharp in her chest when his mouth settled in the hollow of her shoulder, nipping and licking, his teeth grazing over her skin, sending prickles of pleasure and need shimmering down her spine. She eased back as his head drifted lower, as he swept his tongue over her collarbone in a long, languid stroke, as his mouth closed over the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat, stealing the very breath from her lungs.

“Now that there are no secrets between us…” he whispered into her skin.

“I don’t want anything between us,” she whimpered, reaching between them to strip away her towel – and the last of her inhibitions. She wanted him so badly – he made her feel beautiful and desirable and comfortable in her own skin, like she could stand naked before him and not be found wanting. She wanted that, to feel the brush of bare skin against bare skin, to savor the warmth of his body seeping into hers, to understand what he meant when he spoke of _being loved_.

His hands closed over hers, stilling her movements; when she looked up, she found herself arrested by his gaze, his eyes the color of dark honey. “Let me,” he implored, covering her mouth with his as he tucked his fingers into the fold of the towel, tugging it loose.

She felt the soft fabric fall away from her body, pooling at her feet as he smoothed one hand across her waist, the other still tangled in her hair, drawing her head back as he trailed kisses down her neck, finding the hollow between her collarbones, and laving his tongue over the pulse point buried there. She sighed, closing her arms around his shoulders, arching forward into his touch, heaviness beginning to gather in the cradle of her pelvis.

She shivered when the hand in her hair drifted down the curve of her back, supporting the weight of her body as he shifted against her. She gasped when she felt his hand on her breast, the touch excruciatingly light as he trailed his fingers over the sides, his movements careful and slow, almost reverent, as if he was taking his time to learn every square inch. He stroked the fullest curve with his fingertips over and over again, up and down and up and down in the sweetest torture she’d ever known, finally bringing his hand up, cupping the fullness in his palm.

He sank down onto his bed, drawing her into his lap, and rested his head against her chest, wanting to see and hear and feel the ways his exploration was affecting her. Her heart fluttered and her chest constricted, her breathing growing shallower and shallower as he continued, curling his fingers into the soft skin between her breast and her ribcage. She felt him smile into her skin as he circled his thumb over her nipple, working it into a hard, pebbled peak.

She tried to watch was he was doing, to stay in the moment with him, but it was so incredibly difficult to resist giving into the sensations swirling up beneath his touch. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her breasts, but there was something different and delicious about it. Each caress sent a bolt of need straight to the core of her being, causing heat to flush and build and weigh heavily between her legs.

She whimpered when she felt his hand fall away, sliding down her side, over the curve of her hip. He touched her leg, trailing his fingertips over the smooth skin of her thigh before brushing his hand over her abdomen, causing her muscles to quiver and constrict. Still, he held his head to her chest, his hair silky and luxurious against her skin, and he listened – to the way her heart raced, to the jerky, irregular rhythm of her breathing, to the tiny, delectable moan he elicited when he dipped his thumb into her belly button.

It was pleasure and pain, having him so close and yet still aching for his touch. Maybe it was worse, knowing how it felt to have him, all of him – the way it felt to have his mouth, his lips, his teeth, his tongue on her, the way it felt when his body closed around hers, the way it felt when his hips moved with hers, the way it felt to have him inside her, tight and heavy and full.

He shifted his position, easing her back until she lay on the mattress, and he loomed over her for a moment, his hands at her sides as his golden eyes roved over her, taking in the obvious need he’d built up in her. She ached for him, his nearness and warmth, to feel his body flush against hers. It was agony of the best kind, finding herself vulnerable beneath him, yearning and waiting and wanting something she knew was so amazing – and so precious – that she would never tire of it.

She reached for him, curling her hands into the nape of his neck, brushing his hair over the regal set of his shoulders until it pooled on the bed around her, curtaining them together as he lowered his body onto hers. Her breath was short and sharp and very nearly stopped when his lips met her skin again, brushing and nipping over the tops of her breasts. She arched up when she felt him drawing his tongue up the line of her breastbone, her abdomen rising to meet his in a burst of fire-driven need. She felt herself growing warm and slick beneath him as his mouth followed the trails forged earlier by his hands, torturous routes over the curve of each breast, along the sweep of skin over her ribs, down the flat expanse of her belly.

He rose up again to kiss her, his lips soft and pliant and tasting faintly of her skin. She moaned deep in her throat when he shifted over her, when she felt his hands on her legs, parting them so that he might press himself against her. She whimpered when she felt him draw away, felt air between her thighs instead of his arousal, felt the knot of need in her core tighten with frustration, in need of release.

“Breathe,” he whispered against her lips, smoothing his hands up and down her sides in long, sumptuous strokes.

“I – can’t,” she choked out, straining against his hold, closing her arms around him and trying to bring his body down to meet hers again.

“Yes, you can,” he cajoled, shifting onto his side as he rolled her onto hers. His breath was warm against the shell of her ear, his silvery hair silken against her skin as he wrapped his arms around her, his chest flush against her back and his hips cradled into hers.

She exhaled sharply, the heat in her core exploding when she felt the heaviness of his erection brushing against her legs. “Oh,” she moaned, rocking her hips into his, wishing it was enough to move him inside her, to ease the pressure knotted deep in her pelvis.

He touched her breasts, palming the fullness of them and squeezing gently, which only made her press harder and more urgently against him. It was delicious, but it was still torture, and she couldn’t stand it any longer – she shoved her hands between her thighs, thrusting her fingers inside herself, crying out in stark, sheer relief to finally feel relief, however fleeting.

It took her a minute to catch her breath, to realize that they were lying perfectly still on the bed, his head resting against her shoulder, his hands firm at her waist as he held her tightly in place. “Are you okay?” he murmured, more of a statement than a question, the words reverberating into her.

She nodded, feeling flushed and constricted as she eased her hands away. “Sorry,” she whispered, feeling her heart clench as she wiped the slickness coating her fingers onto her thighs.

“For what?” he mused, softening his hold on her as he curled her body further into his. “It felt amazing.”

She blinked, digging her nails into the skin of her legs as surprise washed through her. “You aren’t insulted?” she asked cautiously. 

He shifted slightly, lifting himself up so that he could look into her face. “That I’ve turned you on that much?” he responded, rather amused. “Why should I find that insulting?”

“Because I took matters into my own hands?” she sputtered incredulously, bringing them up so that he might see them, since apparently it wasn’t obvious.

He leaned into her, sliding one of his hands between her legs, dipping his longest finger inside her. She gasped, her entire body seizing, then relaxing, as he stroked her. “Is that so,” he murmured, nipping at her earlobe. “You still feel unsatisfied to me.”

She could only nod, rocking her hips into his, her breath shallow and jagged in her lungs. She felt not only his hand, but his cock as well, long and hard and pulsating against her skin.

“I don’t care how anybody else does this,” he told her, his voice a low rumble in his throat as he pressed his hips into hers. “All I know is you, and myself, and what feels good _between us_.”

She nodded again, drawing her lower lip between her teeth and biting down, trying to find some other way to release the intense pressure throbbing between her legs.

“You cannot insult me,” he continued, his breath warm against the shell of her ear, “because I do not take what I am unwilling to give. My pleasure is yours.”

“Then please me,” she begged, opening her legs as she rolled her hips into his.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck as he continued to stroke her, dipping another finger in to join the first, rubbing his thumb over her clitoris, just as she had shown him. She knew this – she _loved_ this – and his hand felt even better than her own, his fingers long and tapered and elegant.

She lost herself in the sensation, in the heat and need that curled in her belly, in the way her skin tingled wherever it touched his, in the softness of his mouth and the smoothness of his tongue as he nipped and licked at her neck and her shoulder. She relished it all, and the way it seemed to stoke her inner fire in the most decadent way.

He kept her in the moment, using his free hand to find one of hers and direct it back, curling her fingers into the waistband slung low across his hips. She took the hint, bringing both of her hands back and smoothing them over the sides of his legs, rising up and hooking her thumbs into the waistband, slowly pushing the light linen down over the curve of his backside. She kept her movements measured and deliberate, unable to resist teasing him a little, enjoying the way he squirmed in response.

He shifted beneath her to aid in her quest, careful to keep his hands in place where they were – one inside her, the other now teasing her breasts – and groaned aloud when she finally managed to free him. She pushed his pants to his knees, and then he took over, kicking them the rest of the way off and over the side of the bed.

They curled together, the hand inside her slowing as he adjusted his position, tucking himself into her, his erection stirring between her thighs. Her hands stole down to touch him, to feel the fullness of him, completely aroused, thrumming with desire that mirrored her own. She felt his fingers slide out of her, felt his hand wrapping around his cock, coating it with the slickness he’d worked up inside her, but she took over before he could go any further, giving him a long, experimental stroke.

“Kagome,” he moaned, his voice tight, his words muffled in her hair. He grappled for her hips, his hands moving down to open her thighs, to relieve some of _his_ tension, and she smirked, bucking her hips into his as she gave him another squeeze.

He answered her teasing with a bit of his own, sliding through her fingers and into her body, just enough to ignite the arousal still knotted tightly in her abdomen, to make it cry out for another release – for _real_ release. She stroked him again, warming him in her hands before guided him inside, sinking her hips into his.

It was the most exquisite feeling.

She breathed in deep and exhaled, closing her legs around his, squeezing her muscles around him, holding him deep inside her. 

For a moment, they simply lay there, enjoying the sensation of fitting together.

She loved the way he felt, inside her but also all around her – the cradle of his hips supporting hers; the way his arms wrapped around her waist, his hands soft beneath her breasts; the way his chin rested on her shoulder, his breath warm in her hair; the rise and fall of his chest against her back, the sensation of his skin, hot and flushed and bare next to hers.

 _I love you_ , she thought, relaxing around him, curling into him as he began to move inside her. She swept the curtain of his hair over her, savoring the way the silky strands shimmered against her skin. She clutched her hands around his and let herself go, let herself trust for the very first time – that this wasn’t be the end – that she could stay – that he _would_ stay – that she would have the chance to savor him again.

Her heart gained traction in her chest as the heaviness in her abdomen rumbled, as raw and aching need gnawed at her insides, heating and constricting and burning just beneath her skin. She fought to keep breath in her lungs as his thrusts became shorter, sharper, and harder, driving deep into her core, closer and closer and closer to that luscious, throbbing knot – 

– and then it shattered, and she felt free, her body trembling under the force of her orgasm, her legs falling slack around his, even as she gripped his fingers with renewed force. She felt his mouth hot on her skin, sucking and kneading the back of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, and it only made the first wave of aftershocks even better.

She was only just beginning to float back down to earth when she felt him stiffen, and seize, and trap his breath in his lungs as he closed his arms around her. She whimpered when she felt him draw away, only to gasp in surprise when he rolled his body on top of hers, pressing her into the mattress as he drove home one last thrust and erupted inside her.

He held her close as he rode the waves of his climax, his hips moving shallowly into hers. She could feel the heaviness of his breath against her back as she snuggled into him, enjoying the weight of his body on top of hers. She felt safe and secure and comforted and assured, protected from the world and its insecurities.

 _So this is what it means to love_ , she mused to herself as their bodies slowed to a stop. In the haze of her satisfaction, her mind slowly pieced it all back together. It was all still there – the relief, the joy, the anxiety, the disbelief, the anguish, the fear, the desire – but the balance had shifted. It had all been worth it: everything she’d suffered over the last eight months had been repaid, beyond measure. He was worth it. _This_ was worth it.

He released his hold on her, shifting down onto the bed beside her, and she shivered in the balmy air of the early morning, instantly sensing and missing the heat and comfort of his body. “Don’t leave me,” she murmured, rolling over to face him, tucking her head against his chest as she draped her arms around him.

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her brow. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, pulling the edge of the duvet with him as he wrapped his arms around her, blanketing them both its softness.


End file.
